SANDCASTLE

Dr. Ken © 2014

I am not strong, I do not bend,

My shell is paper-thin.

I look the same as you recall

But I’m not the same at all.

If I survive the day, I win.

I have all night to mend.

A million possibilities, like wet sand at water’s edge;

I can take any shape that fits.

But, like a kid’s castle built with pride,

It won’t last past high tide;

Washed away in a trillion bits

For tomorrow’s kid to dredge.

I am built again in the morning light

With unlimited potential.

But, these ramparts cannot be defended

Nor these crumbing walls mended.

The façade is ornamental;

Built and destroyed with equal delight

It’s true I collapse repeatedly

With no hope of permanency.

I shift, I waft, I rearrange

But, my essence doesn’t ever change

For not even the relentless pounding sea

Can break the grains that make up me.