The rain keeps the sand wet
so we can build
things that
do not
blow away with the wind.
We dig a hole,
line it with
towers,
sharp battlements.
People watch us,
the teenager and the old woman
sitting in the sand,
hands and hair dirty.
A little girl helps,
digging the hole deeper
so we can hide from pirates.
I am a mermaid, she tells us.
I am trapped on land. Help! Help!
Help! Marla repeats.
Help! I repeat.
Help. Help. Help.
The tide creeps towards us,
waves licking the edges of our fortress.
We have spent the afternoon building
but no one will remember
the work that went into it
or how bewitching it was –
how strong, solid.
Everything
eventually
will be washed away.