Seashells on the sea, shored

I had a brainwave yesterday about where my tiny spiral-bound notebook might be, and there it was, in the front pocket of my small rucksack, so tiny it didn't make the rucksack weigh anything so I thought it was empty & just threw it into the back of the wardrobe. And it was on a yellow page, after all, a fragment of poem so tiny it didn't make the notebook weigh anything.

( garbage collection, unedited )

Today's subject line is brought to you by the (sadly, apparently now defunct) British Society for Scholars Wondering If The Line ‘These fragments I have shored against my ruin’ should have been ‘These fragments have I shored against my ruin’ (neither: it's 'ruins', plural, of course, as any fule kno), though if you hold it up to your ear you may hear a hint of a shell that sang too.