After the Storm

Sand is the only thing that

lasts forever on the seashore.

Gets into everything:

eyes—hair—our shoes.

And we take it away with us—

giving it a second life

someplace else, but

leaving no part of it

engraved with our image.

It makes sense—with

another season swallowed up

by frenzied winds and hungry tides—

to sit here soaked and battered—

collecting regrets like seashells and

clinging to all that's blue and flowing—

while we wait for the waves

to finish ebbing and

our castles to wash away.

The Web Projects of Sondra Ball and Mario Cavallini