© 2006 Andrea Bierly

The Perfect Crime

The ocean lifts its weighty hand and drags

Its white claws across the brown sand --

Pulling some to its bosom and sparing the rest,

Striking again this time with a fist.

Relentlessly pounding at the shore,

The Ocean howls and suddenly subsides,

Caressing, instead, the granules

As if to apologize.

Returning the sand to its rightful place,

Trying to mend the scars it left

On the shore's face; leaving behind no evidence,

Not a trace.

All work is property of Andrea Bierly.

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