Sand-Writer
A sand-writer
In low tides,
He dips his toes
Into the water-
His fingers
Drag
The beach,
Rip the shore
Open and
Hold at bay the
Ocean
For a moment.
He engraves
Thick initials,
Curls them together
Like two hands
Reaching,
Soul-searching
For the other:
Blind but bold
As they wane
In their
Heart-shaped
Box.
The sand-writer
Stands back,
Watching
As the water
Laps up
His memories
And washes them away.
He muses that
He’ll draw again
Tomorrow,
The same letters
Over and over
Into the earth
Until it too
Can never
Forget.
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