Wrote a poem in the sand,
Wonder how it fares if left alone,
Will it bear on its own merits
Or juxtapose by meddling hands,
Meantime, sun dries it again,
Wind shifts it broad and thin,
Indelible puddles left by rain,
Sand critters pop out and in,
A boy and his ball rolls along,
With a long sigh, looks on down,
Builds a sandcastle then leaves,
Ebb tide gone, flood tide flows cleanly,
I returned, stood and discern,
Comme ci, comme ca, c'est la vie