Sea Spot

A thought came to me Suddenly—

A friend had asked me,

Perplexed,

Why women loved to hang

Seashells

In bathrooms,

Sculpted soaps on the back

Of the commode.

I had no answer;

I could not tell.

I had never thought that way.

But my mother—

I peered around

At the starfish on the wall,

The blue net hung,

And the gulls fllying

In curtains.

I could almost imagine myself

Underwater.

If only the walls

Had not been

Pink.