Glass abandoned at shore
still tasting salt
Its throat remembers tides
its belly keeps a roar
Waves interrogate it kindly
asking about former voyages
The bottle stays discreet
letting foam do the talking
A child lifts it to the ear;
an ocean fits inside
Some dreams return as audio
years after the trip
When the cork is finally freed
wind rushes back to work
The sea was never absent—
only awaiting recall