Seashells

I take some of her shells
and a bag of lavender

and I travel to the desert,
to lose myself in mountains and dust

I sprinkle the lavender in the valley
at Wadi Rum, 

the purple petals
mixing with red baked sand, and 

I bury the shells and wonder
if anyone will come across them

-- a tourist, a shepherd, a child -- 
and ask where they came from?

I am returning them, to where
maybe, in ancient times,

millions of years ago,
there may have been a sea

© Ioanna Sahas Martin