at the beach, on the sand

all footprints disappear

erased by waves that roll ashore

everyday of every year

bare, browned, sunburned

blistered, tender, tough

barnacled with bunions,

polished, pedicured, and rough

sandaled, flip-flopped, aching

the palest of scarred soles

covered up in freckles

all freckled up with moles

a father’s long feet

zigging on a toddler’s zagging heels

while the tot runs toward the water

and his baby laughter peals

old feet, new feet

two pairs walking side by side

perhaps a husband slows his steps

to match his wife’s short stride

Fleet-footed, light-footed, left or right footed

the waves sweep clean the shore

as if no one has ever

ever

walked that beach before