Sand Castles

Caged by the city's winter light, she held the island in her bones;

the marrow-deep remembrances

of sun-edged gulls and mossy stones

and stars that trailed across the night

like wild wands of Queen Anne's lace

that swayed above the sea's embrace.

Released into the summer's hand,

bound by the never-ending sight

of water slurring over strand,

she knelt with a bucket, cup, and sticks

to build her frail domain of sand.

I still recall the castle towers

cast by many sun-burnt hours,

as she sat and sang to sleep

the princess in her sea-shell keep.

Even now, as summer ends,

as heart-entrapping dark descends

upon this beach I walk along,

I still see fragile towers reach

into the echoes of her song.