Look at these stones. Weren’t here yesterday.
And the odds are they won’t be here tomorrow.
The tide that brought them will take them away.
No one will miss them, never mind feel sorrow.
That daily tide sets free all that it owns;
The same thing happens up and down the shore.
Tomorrow’s beach will have tomorrow’s stones—
Maybe fewer in number, maybe more.
Who knows? I won’t. I’m just here for the day.
I’ll ride a wave or two, soak up some sun,
Salute my footprints as they’re washed away,
And all too soon my time here will be done
And I’ll be nothing but a memory
By the great tide that rules this mortal sea.
Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells