Poetry: Wax On, Wax Off

The turning tide times it just right.

Every time it does,

The shallow, yet telling, waves that scatter the beach.

Don’t forgive their mother for what she does from time to time.

She always disturbs the play things they are used to each day.

It is time,

they retreat in fear of her.

Further, and further they recede into her.

She takes them because they have nowhere else to go.

After she has spoke her mind to the mainland,

she allows them to play once more.

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