My feet buried in the sand,
waves washing on the shore,
a sea gull calls
amid the sounds of children
playing tag along the waves.
The fine grains of time
slip through my hands
daylight gives way
to the pastel sky
of dusk's muted glow.
Supper needs fixing,
but I’m quite content
sitting on the shore
building castles
letting them crumble,
making them again
seeking the perfect mixture
of moisture and sand
to withstand the pull
of earth and daily routines.
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