Dancers By Kayla Hall

They wouldn't dare say what was on their mind;
we were crazy for dancing on the beach.
We were in love and celebrating life
ours and one that was starting on its way.
It was windy at the beach and the maid
and butler tried using black umbrellas
to hide us from the wind but it didn't
help they were too far away but to get
closer means we could no longer embrace.
Hats pulled long to shield their faces, sand felt
like little needles stabbing you countless
times. The bag kept soaking up salt water.
I can't remember what it held but it
must have ruined the objects inside, who cares.
We once said our vows their and there we shall
become the sand once our child has their kids.
Heels no longer present, who walks in heels
on the sand? The sand wanted them for him
but the ocean took them, they looked better
in her anyways. What does the ocean
need heels for? Maybe she dances alone.
I too now dance alone, with memories.
She dances with sand and water, not me.
Me she left behind, guess shoes are better.
But I still have my daughter to care for.
Though now she tends to take care for me more.
I sit here thinking this was our first
painting of the family. The last thing
I was going to remember was then.
As I rejoin my wife on our vast spot.