Footprint by Ezra Kleinbaum

Like footprints on soggy sand

My impression

Always seems to fade:

Leaving nothing but a fond memory

Of its existence.

Each step

A small piece

Of something big,

Something beautiful,

Something whole.

The prints; just a fraction

Of it all.

A fleeting impression

Upon a few thousand grains

Of sand

Rapidly cascading

Through the hourglass

Of time,

Beneath the feat

Of a human being

Galloping across a beach.

Her hair whipping through the

Buttery warm air,

The fabric of her dress

Flapping at her knees

As the sea comes forth

To touch her toes;

Washing me away.

As I roll,

And tumble,

And turn,

My view of her back distorts through the water.

Seafoam clouds my vision

As an angel’s fingers

Wrap around my neck,

And eyes,

Already pulling me

Towards the bottom

Of someone else’s feet.