When the Tide Comes In

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I like to walk on the beach at sunset
When the glow of unreality
Settles on the strait of sand
And the gulls’ cries cease
Until all I can hear
Is the purring of the ocean
It is then that I watch my footprints
Appear as if by magic
In wavering trails across the darkening beach
Becoming firmer in the clean wet sand
Fading in the white
But it does not matter how I make them
Because they will all be equal
When the tide comes in
It will creep towards my footprints
Like a hesitant lover
Gradually at first it will nibble at my sandy toes
Then tease and smudge
My gentle heels and arches
Scouring them clean and flat
It will fill my soles
Gently wash them out
Into a smooth and perfect plane
Where all that is left
Is a memory
And the knowledge
That I, too
Make footprints





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