The Beach
Walking through the realm of sand
water's edge rocking back, forth
always receding, as if avoiding
prints left by two bare feet
Carrying scents of salt and dreams
a gentle breeze stirs up the sand
memories of the past, lifting wings
gulls take flight across the sea
The shells and rocks cause no harm
to these practiced and calloused feet
but hanging tight to every pore, sand
has found a vessel for its journey
At last the tide gains its strength
rushing over the rocks the shells
cleaning off the feet, removing
any signs the sand was out of place
The beach is clear, undisturbed
no sign remains of two bare feet
no story left to tell the tale
of a traveling grain of sand
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