On a scar of sand so white
A stain of rock scorched by burning light
Where the smoldering sphere hijacks the days
Sand crabs live in sandcastles built by crawling waves
Scurrying up the shore, flattening into the sand,
Creating coves along the living land.
Beach long shelters are fossilized.
Sun-baked dancers are hospitalized
Due to a claw caught
In a deep-sea knot
Uprooted and drifted to shore
To rest upon the asylums like décor
And trap the trapping red-clippers
Who travel along the scar like nippers,
Waiting for a foot,
Who has no eyes and will therefore put
Its thick-skinned head into their trap
Causing the clickers to click and snap
And bite into the fruit.
Who, on a walk so dissolute,
Travels along the minefield of sand
And destroys the citadels like the ocean’s hands
Grabbing up the shore with salty claws
Like an animal that digs with dirty paws
But when the sun hides away,
And the clickers find a place to stay,
Away from the wet, black duvet
That has made the dancers topple and spin
It is the earth that has collected its win.
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