Under a yellow umbrella he sits in the shade with his face to the sea.
Castles of sand resting out on the shore start to melt in the rush of the tide.
Pebbles in windows and seashells for doors, and a pennant of seaweed and twigs
proudly defiant of waves overflowing the fortress defenses so thin,
not even noticing how all the waves have been washing the walls 'til they're smooth.
Scattering droplets of ocean behind him and sand in his wake as he runs,
chasing a shadow that chases a ball who is heedless of castles and waves,
a dog leaves behind foot-shaped prints in the sand, tiny tide-pools that glint in the sun.
Seagulls swoop low watching closely for crumbs, or for crackers, or cautionless crabs.