Sandpipers ignore the intimacy
as footsteps plot the outline of
waves chasing after our walking
together today for a change, and
you too are oblivious to holding hands
and a father who somehow feels the
need to conceptualise, almost unable
to ride it all along the moment’s crest.
But driftwood roots and branches are
also entwined further up the beach like
abstract but beautiful works of art
so that here everything becomes
perfect and natural and the way
it is all so clearly meant to be.