Castles

CASTLES

The inevitable return of the tide

proves insufficient to deter the faithful

from stooping to the work. In fact, 

the thin sliver of dune the tide

affords before it's inevitable return

serves as battlecry for those prone

to recline the day away on 

their towels to up-and-populate 

the plane, regardless of how flimsy

such populace may prove. Given that 

erasure is sure and that soon enough 

ours walls and moats will once again

see eye to eye, we might as well 

construct them deep and high 

before the leveling, bedazzling them 

with shells and other beach bracken

we stumble upon. And who’s to say 

for certain who might stumble upon 

our creations come evening 

time: some fiddler-crab king, 

perhaps, or maybe a footsore dreamer

who never would have lingered

otherwise, pausing to watch our work return 

to the deep from which it came, feeling

a tug at more than their ankles to do the same.