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Castle of Sand

Heather White

The tiny pink burn forming on his shoulders,
Tiny grains of sand covering his wave splashed feet,
Sitting on a towel in the sand.

His anticipation grows each time the tide comes near,
He places the last details carefully in their place,
Patting down the sides to make it strong.

A huge splash crashes upon the beach,
The water slowly slides down into the tiny moat,
His tiny seashell lifts off the sand like a ship.

His arms still blanketed with sand,
And his face exhausted with the afternoons-hard work,
His complete creation stands untouched for a moment.

Another wave crashes on the shore,
The castle sinks into a the sudden flood of water,
The tiny ship thrown away by the crash.

The sand and rocks drift away with the tide,
All that’s left is a pool of water,
And a single untouched moment.

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