FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND 2

Peter Woodgate 

It was early in the morning as I walked along the beach

and saw two sets of footprints side by side,

a closer look showed one set slightly larger

and both would soon be covered by the tide.

Each footprint made was clear, precise, distinct,

for no other, than my own, was seen,

the sand was flat, swept smoothly by the sea

and all around the bay, the air serene.

I glanced again, each footprint seemed to glow,

definitive within the soft damp sands,

this image had me thinking wistfully,

had they been made by lovers holding hands?

The romance in me chose to think they had

and in that moment had me feeling gay,

but further on, one set of prints turned left toward the sea

and one toward the cliffs, the other way.

The smaller of the two disappeared beneath the waves

swallowed by the motion of the tide,

the other set of prints, that led up to the cliffs

stopped suddenly, it was only then I spied

a notice, it was a plea for information,

there had been an accident two days before,

it appeared a couple on the cliffs had argued,

the boy had fallen off, it said no more.

The girl, it seemed, had then just disappeared,

the police would want a statement before long

could I have told them what I thought had happened?

And would I have felt a fool if I’d been wrong?

 

They found her body washed up two days later,

the tragic loss drove her to suicide,

how then, could I have seen, their footprints when I did?

She’d walked into the sea the night he’d died.

Of course, I could not prove it was their footprints,

the sea just washes evidence away,

I have a feeling though, their tortured souls live on

to walk the sands and leave their prints each day.

 

Copyright Peter Woodgate