Sand Felt Their Bodies Rest

Towels and tears,

Sore hearts deposited in the sand.

Stretching out limbs, laying out fears

She said, “Let’s go find some seashells”

Let’s go find some peace.

So this despair might cease

She knew he would be willing, always willing

An Empty well, always filling.

“Let’s go find some seashells”

Let’s go find some hope.

Perhaps, like changing oceans which vary their tides

Our souls can learn to cope.

Four feet padded across the tiny bits of erosion

Washed ashore

 Leaving futile imprints

Prints like a corroding core.

Aviary would view

Mirages from up in flight

Would view the two

Bending together to reach, they reached with grasping fingers

Desperately

To envelope eroded earth.

Dejected trash from the sea, they unburied.

Putting the abandoned homes of crustaceans into their pockets.

Countenances silent and worried

His eyes glinted like a beam of light sent to her eyes,

She looked to the ground

Thought of the knife he did rise

 Turned away from the sound.

Their arms and hands they cleaned in the dead waves

Salty, bitter, wind abound

Nicks on his right arm, the nicks: the lines on a shell

Regretted, guilty, she couldn’t tell.

Evasive sand felt their bodies rest,

Facing mute echoes of the water.

For a moment they were blessed.

He said, “Should we go back?”

A glance at his watch.

Do we have to go back?

She knew he didn’t want to leave

Return to circumstances and grieve.

“I want to sit here awhile”

Please, let’s not rush.

For a time unrestrained to end

They could escape in the warm quiet hush.