Wave after wave,

Two pairs of shoes sit on the wet sand.

What would they say?

The dark, frothy water rolls forward, then recedes.

Each time, it comes daringly close to the soles,

But still, never quite reaches them.

What a shame, 

That’s what they would say.

Just maybe if they weren't 

 

The shoes are almost identical,

Worn, black leather flats.

Those of a schoolgirl's uniform. 

Despite the heavy truth it carries, the scene is almost serene,

Because perhaps they be in peace now.

 

The shoes sit respectfully on the shoe rack,

One pair is slightly smaller than the other.

The girls lie on the rug, in the ease of closed doors.

Above them is the family portrait,

The father and his fragile pride grays through his glare,

The mother condemns through her vapid smile.

But the eyes of the photo can be ignored.

Can’t they look away,

Just for now?

 

Don’t let her come back,

The stinging of the strike to her face,

It’s a bit distracting, isn’t it?

She holds her cold palm to her cheek.

Straightening herself out, she stands.

She looks into her mother’s eyes

No, I won’t be either.

 

Perhaps in paradise,

They will walk down the white sand,

Hand in hand.

 

But paradise is not so far.

Their laughter dances around the empty beach,

They pause for a moment,

The water up to their knees.

Their eyes speak in flickering tongues.

Just an ephemeral exchange of intention,  

It is brief but precious. 

Scooping water with their arms in large sweeping motions,

They splash each other and their eyes smile into crescents.

The ocean is faintly cold but it is sympathetic,

Washing away their burdens.

 

The sun bids farewell for the day,

It will be back tomorrow. 

As the hues blend and streak in the sky without a thought,

They sit side by side on the sand, fingers intertwined.

Maybe when their feet dry they’ll slip back into those black leather shoes.