Sandcastles
I watch you sit cross-legged at the edge of the cliff,
as white-capped waves resculpt what’s left of the beach.
The route we walked just hours earlier,
exploring and climbing crumbling shale precipices,
submerged and inaccessible.
Now sand and water collide,
advancing and receding as one.
New crevices create temporary ponds,
blocking the path to the fallen tree serving as bridge
between camp and water.
The same bridge where you steadied me with firm hands,
when my steps faltered.
A sturdy log leading to the bright beach where we ran and laughed and
sang songs around the campfire,
Eventually realizing we were water and sand,
a temporary structure waiting for high tide.
Bright sunlight briefly peeked through the dark clouds,
creating a halo around your auburn hair,
contrasting the angry surf.
In that moment, you were holy to me.
Sacred,
untouchable,
a sandcastle slipping through my fingers.
Now let's see what you guys come up with. Let me know if there are any particular forms of poetry that you'd like me to dive deeper into. And don't forget to RSVP to the poetry anthology event!
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