Footsteps on a seashore

You used to run
barefoot on a grassy plain.
You used to throw
off those dirty shoes.
You used to wait
with a pearly smile,
across the fences,
singing serenely,
looking like dawn.

Once or twice
you walked passed
barefooted still
bridging every stone steps
twirling at ease.
Once or twice
you nodded a hello
while balancing atop
the picket fence.

But still,
you never asked
And still,
you let me wait.
Are all those smiles
just for a distance?
Are all those nods
just for a play?

Finally, you moved
finally, you ran
across every barricade
among thorny paths
arms outstretched
flying in
on a tight embrace
but, yet,
you glided past
you embraced, yet,
with another me.

It was not me
who you saw.
It was not me
whom you know.
I know now,
you didn’t know.
I am but someone
you hardly see.
I am but a
footstep on a
sandy shore.


-July 28, 2008