#SHANSPOETRYPROMPT / Sandcastles in the Sand

Where Else?

A poem of how things are

Sandcastles in the sand — where else would they be? Misplaced on a city street littered with MickyD bags? Overrun by cars, bikes and delivery trucks? Painted yellow with stray dog pee?

Or, maybe in the back seat of a car, wrapped in a blanket from the last road trip, dripping sand on milkshake-stained upholstery?

Perhaps on the sidewalk, chalked with child art, kicked by passersby who don’t appreciate sand or castles or sandcastles in odd places?

Certainly not in my hand, too small to hold even the smallest castle, too tremulous from years accumulated when I wasn’t looking.

Definitely not on the head of my cat, challenging his patience and willingness for the silliness of sandy citadels.

Life can be whimsical and capricious, scattering what belongs one place to someplace else, like a bird blown off course,

Or a person who starts a legal career and ends up singing old Buffy Saint Marie songs in a tea and coffee bar with overstuffed chairs.

But, castles can only be old along a German river or new and temporary, constructed of sand on the shifting sands of — well, sand.

Some things just are what they are and where they are, if only for a few moments before being washed away.

Sandcastles are exactly where they should be. And, they will end exactly as they should.

Enjoy them while they last.

© Dennett 2021

Inspired by Buffy St. Marie:

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