sand castles

sand scrapes our knees
and hides under our nails.
we dig deep into the earth,
no shovel. no pail.
just our skin, left to our own devices.
the sun beats down,
turning my pale skin pink.
turning your skin a beautiful red-brown.
deeper.
deeper.
deeper.
and the water rushes in to flood the hole we've made.
we're battling with the earth,
and what's the use?
as soon as we step off of the sand and onto the pavement,
the ocean will wash away the castles we've made,
and fill in the holes that we've dug.

we know this.
and we keep digging.
and we pile sand on top of sand
and shape those piles into tall castles surrounded by moats.
and it's perfect!
it's magnificent!
for a moment, we are both five years old and we don't care how dirty and wet we've become.
for a moment, we have nothing on our minds but the pretty waves that fill our moats
and the lovely wet sand castles that harden in the sun.

and when it's time to leave, and we walk away from the setting sun,
we turn around and see
the small children stomping all over our creation
and we
laugh.