Dancing Crabs and Deep Seas

a much older one; revisited and redone a bit

You poured your hopes into the sea
the time you visited the shore,
crossing over dancing crabs –

pulsing back and forth like
a heart monitor – burrowing
into sand potholes like skin pores.

The crabs clung to you like neglected
children, selfishly stealing the attention
you couldn't provide for them,

as you kicked sand the size of corpses
spelling a name and making hand-made hollow hearts
they didn't deserve anymore.

You formed castles, civilisations,
Canyons where the water could weave,
like unattached hairs fallen with standing-strength,

unobstructed as you approached the area
where it smoothed sand foot-printing
something which could be lost just as easily.

You maundered epitaphs resembling "Recovered"
below a water line rising and falling
with the pulsing of a full heart;

where light reflected blue-green on
your face – nature's springtime colours
before it realises how eagerly

it bleeds red-orange as an
afternoon sun, like a suspended crab,
clings to leaves and has its way with them.

It was seasons later you left the sea –
crabs scurried towards you, weightily
pulling you down into dunes

previously created through kicking sand,
as you glanced at a civilisation of
Please-Nos and Rest-In-Peaces,

watching with wide eyes – releasing streams over potholes,
towards the area where they smoothed sand foot-printing
something which would be lost just as easily.