Under the midday sun,
in that incessant humming of the sea,
breeze ruffling your hair,
you stared at the small depressions
on the sand;
footsteps of a child
who has had a morning of freedom.
Retraced those footsteps,
trying to follow to the end,
but they circled back.
In that evening light,
a little girl laughed:
“Look, Mom, that crazy man
is going round and round.”
Said the mom:
“No, my darling, he is not.
I do the same,
when you are around.”
...and the sea\'s humming goes on...