Their keepsakes half-buried in the sands.
Ash circles mark a host of flames extinguished
And waves wipe out prints of feet and hands.
Each of them was happy soaking up the sun,
Making monuments with their spades.
But the parasols have tangled up with weeds:
As castles crumble, memory fades.
Walking bare foot, I cast the debris adrift:
The sea will send them to other shores.
Leaving only a single set of footprints
That, like this place, are forever yours.