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
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