FOOTPRINTS ON THE SEASHORE

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I traipse along the seashore
where the tide forgets its name,  
where the seagulls cry like lost receipts,  
where the sand, pale as a sleepless page,  
whispers: Look down. Look down.  

But I search the horizon instead~  
that bluish orange hyphen between here  
and whatever comes next. 
The ocean licks its lips,  
spatting out a shell, half-cracked,  
a confession in porcelain.  

Is this you? the waves murmur,  
rolling their r’s like a drunk god.  
I hold it to my ear~  
hear the static of a thousand voices
and the hiss of dead radios.  

A crab scurries by me, dragging its life  
like a piece of baggage with damaged wheels.  
You’re overthinking it,  
says the wind,  
but the wind always says that.  

At twilight, my silhouette stretches long,  
a black rope thrown toward the sea.  
I tug. Nothing tugs back.  
And the moon, that cheap spotlight,  
clicks on—illuminating  
only how far I haven’t gone.  

Poem published at creativeramblings.com/writing-prompts/writing-challenge-27/ on February 22, 2026

12th gradebeachintrospectionoceanfree verse

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