A Walk on the Beach

The wind invites me, tired, out to the sandy beach

It stretches out before me, endless beneath my feet.

Warm, and soft, and yielding,

A bed for me to sleep.

And as I bend down slowly,

A smile on my face,

I try to grab some handfuls

But the grains, too small, don't stay.

And they slide between my fingertips,

Despite the tighter grip

And I smile again to realize

That the sand remains in place.

For …