The False Drill
I found a shell in shallow water
Held it gently to my ear
A thing of special beauty
With a message sounding clear.
A voice whispered softly,
“I miss you so, my dear.”
But I felt I was intruding.
It was not for me to hear.
So I replaced the shell
for return to deep slumber
As it rolled back to the sea,
it Said, “Sorry, wrong number.”
- Richard Robb
“Poets of Boca Grande”