the child
was running
along the beach
with a stick
drawing
words in the sand,
racing
the incoming
tide
watching
the waves,
laughing
as waves
washed in
up down
the beach
washing
out words,
washing
around happy
fun loving
bare feet
as water rushes
up around ankles,
words are never
washed away when
written in wave
rush memories;
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem