Footprints littering the sand
As if there were some plan
To line this lonely beach
As the waves dance, out of reach.
Softly they make their meticulous way
Weaving and winding in windswept day.
As the evening tide washes out the sand
Who am I, but to understand.

11/28/1991

Author's Note: .... upon moving to Florida.....

Posted on 09/01/2009
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