Smooth, shining orbs
Beneath my fingers—
Like marble-sized moons;
Small, mysterious, like a small, dazzling smile.

Once someone's treasure,
Now washed upon my shores.
In my hands,
Now in my bag,
Kept away from the Caribbean blue sky,
Salt-chlorine mixed sea,
And the seasoned breeze.

While the mermaids wail
For a piece of them, now gone—
Gone into my bag:
Smooth, damp pearls,
Holding their dearest memories—
No longer theirs to hold.