Shells meet the Autumn leaves

The Bright
orange tree
sits across the street
from my window.
This tree has
been with me
since I moved in.
It brings me
comfort.
It changes
with the
seasons
but stays
in place not
moving.
It knows who
it is.
It never
has to prove itself.
Right outside
of the same
window
sits a metal
table
with
seashells
on it.
The Shells are big
and I plucked
them from
the sea,
moving
them from
their home.
They sit
season
after season,
shells.
They know who
they are.
No matter
where they
are relocated.
My goal
is to find
that in myself.
To find
where the
Shells meet
the autumn Leaves.
I am
almost there...