The Waiting Game

The waves break into sand as if invited by the grains
Leaving sand drench of what was once upon it
The sand is quickly deserted
Left behind until the waves return
Should the sand get lonely there are plenty of mechanisms to keep it company
The weeds that twine between its cracks
The crabs that dig deep below its surface
“It’s not the same” thought the sand
“The waves come delicately and bond with me
They caress my surface and make me smooth
Transforming me into something different but utterly gorgeous
These creatures come and go as they please
Destroying my form and texture
They are nothing like my waves”
The sand will wait patiently for them
Because it knows the waves are bound to return
They have to pick up the pieces the weeds have torn apart


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