like an innocent

 like an innocent, in the sand to speckle my hand

 granules so fine, the whole landscape does define

the coolness on my skin, a trail of sand between my fingers thin

under my fingernails... the sand trails .

do i care the grit, that under my nail does sit?

seemingly unkept hands, further sand in my hair strands

the freedom of letting go, my demeanor does show

nothing better than to be an innocent and thus, joyous play implement.

RB.