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To feel the sand below my feet
As I walk down my private beach.
People are here, but I don't see.
I am alone, me and the sea.
The sand is warm. The sky is blue.
I walk along in solitude.
A seagull flies above my head.
The sun descends and turns to red.
Others don't see and they don't care.
Next weekend they will all be there.
Taking for granted what has been made.
To them it's just another day.
Those who really see all this
Should someday make a little wish
That things will stay the way they are
So that our young can see the stars.
© 1997-2000 
flemingda@planetc.com
