as the boy and the girl ran out
from their station wagon,
the beach was happy.
it was happy to have their small footprints upon it,
was happy to have holes dug into it
with plastic shovels,
it was even happy to have paper wrapers
blowing about after they'd gone.
but the beach knew that there would no longer be this to look
forward to.
no more careless play.
no more holes or footprints.
only lonely snow falls
to mark the beginnings
of an endless winter.
the beach loved the boy and the girl,
though had no way of telling them
and knew that this
was their last time together.
it knew that things would be different from now on.
the beach did not know if they'd be better
or worse.
but for certain that things
would change.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem