Periwinkle shell

Three thousand miles and fifty years ago I found a sun-bleached shell along the Jersey shore. Time has passed but when I hold it to my ear, I still can hear the ocean's roar. And when I touch it, I can feel the smooth of breezes in a sail on sunset bay or feel the cold of water curling ankle deep on a carefree summer day. And I can climb a dune and stand atop and wave my arms and yell into a wind with no beginning and no end . . . Listen! I hear it whirring in my shell.