Hermit Crabs

it is not surprising

with the seemingly endless catastrophe

of hollow half-broken shells littering the shore

that nature

animated by the spirit

of natural selection

would spit out

a creature who prefers to rent

rather than own

big claw small claw

dots for eyes

sideways gait

all this yes

but not renters really

nor a mogul like you

scooping up the condemned properties

of detroit and baltimore and las vegas

for gain

more like squatters

taking for their own

what others have built

and then abandoned

with only a claim

if not of right

of cold necessity

the ocean churns

and polishes the worthless stones

visible at the ebb

for a moment

glistening and then gone

as far as your eye can see

the wind and the waves

shape the water’s edge

into a mirror

of imperfection

the barnacled pools

fill and drain with the tide

and in the story

you tell

later over drinks

only the shells are left

deeded to the sand

like shattered monuments

to the snails who made them

not gravestones

to the soft crabs

who

for a moment

or two

found

them

home