INSIDE MY SHELL

#1
Inside my shell, I am still a little girl
Hidden from the boogeyman
Hope the sound of the sea doesn’t wake him.

Today–the shell against my ear,
There is no sound.
The sea doesn’t sing
Its swishing song.

Another song fills the well,
Familiar and haunting,
From the center of the spiral,
A low, rumbling wail.

Still a little girl
Afraid of the boogeyman
She hopes the sea
Won’t wake him.

#2
The shell I choose 
Could be the nautilus.
I spiral down into its center
Only a tiny sliver of me 
Shut tight as a clam 
Filtering the brine of you. 

Are you real?
Are you safe?
Perhaps opened wide 
As Botticelli’s “Birth of Venus” 
Reveals the pearl within.
It all depends on you.

#3
With a bright pink, plastic bucket
She skips along the water’s edge
Looks for seashells,
Finds dead fish and crabs
Baked in the summer sun.
She stares at their death
As though she understands
The sands’ murderous burn.

This beach bloomed with seashells once.
Sand dollars half buried
Could be lifted whole
Before the Grand Isle shore
Was littered with oil derricks
And foreign fishermen – 
Usurpers of our Cadie

Now the beautiful shells are gone
Replaced by dead fish and tar balls.

Still, she skips along.   

Bessie Senette is a native of southern Louisiana. She grew up along the bayous of Lafourche and Terrebonne parishes. Influenced by the astounding natural beauty and the insular, cultural traditions of this unique homeland, she writes to remember, to give homage, and to inspire others to do the same. Senette is the author of Cutting the Clouds, A Bayou Mystic’s Poems, Musings, and Imaginings. She lives in Lafayette, Louisiana with her husband of 45 years. Louisiana Pines is her next upcoming collection of poems and musings. She is a 2025 Pushcart nominee for her poem, A Creation Story, originally published in MockingHeart Review.