I took a step or two and felt the salty breeze
coming from the east

My third step crushed
what seemed like a dozen clams
little shells breaking in half
making the most hideous sound

I remembered you saying
–  careful, hon, those are alive.
Which made me wonder
if this was the death they deserved

after all that jumping across the seabed
the moon pulled them up to this shore
to simply be crushed by me?

I don’t know much about death
and frankly I am not that experienced
in this particular field
but I know enough to conclude
they didn’t deserve this

What an awful death this must be.

I mean, any death is awful, really
not for those who are gone
but for the ones who are left
standing and thinking
about those who are gone
wearing black, passing the tissues around
crying and weeping and hugging and holding hands
reading the tear-blurred words
on the crumpled up paper
thinking about something completely else

but soon
someone will stand and think
and read about them too
and so it goes

an infinite cycle of clam-crushing.