Transitory

Little fingers dig
buckets into the sand,
a spade drifts,
forms something simple
in a few short words.

The sun looks past,
throws all in shadow,
yet not before the sea
has waved by
the smudged sentence

of I was.

~

Fingers dig
into the sand,
a serif drift
forms something brief
in a few short words.

The sun looks past,
throws all in shadow,
yet not before the sea
has waved by
the missing sentence

of I was once here.


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One thought on “Transitory

  1. Bekki says:

    This one is very nostalgic. I love it.

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