Head in the Sand

“From what demon came you?

Whose God?”

Asks the father of the eroding beach creation

As he pauses with his child carrying toy bucket and shovel.

Child fills the bucket

Scoops sand into the mouth of the apparition

Pats it solid with tiny hands

“Better?” he giggles.

“Nice work, son.

Better than an apple.  Much better.”

As they continue their stroll…

A sand piper pauses to assess,

Tiptoes away bobbing to itself

As the tide rises,

Carrying irony’s washed-up sand out to the ocean’s seaweed.