Footprints In The Sand

Our love, like gentle footprints in the sand
first softened, and then overrun by waves,
now barely visible in outline, flat and bland.
A hint of what once was, these shallow graves.

Like carefree flotsam tossed into the spray,
we traveled with the current, duty free,
mistaking our proximity for play,
and all the while abandoned to the sea.

What happened to us? Was it just the years
exerting their inexorable pull
as grain by grain, replaced by salty tears,
made every touch mundane, and passions cool?

Here, take my hand. Let's walk this sandy beach.
The tide is low. The waves are out of reach.

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older version

Our love, like gentle footprints in the sand
first softened, and then overrun by waves;
now barely visible in outline, flat and bland,
a hint of what once was, these shallow graves.

Oh, how we laughed, and fell into the spray.
The ocean toying with us, as it must,
and just as well: we did come here to play.
Our bodies shining, was it love? Or lust?

What happened to us? Was it just the years
exerting their inexorable pull
as grain by grain, replaced by salty tears,
made every touch mundane, and passion cool?

Here, take my hand. Let's walk this sandy beach.
The tide is low. The waves are out of reach.