The beach emptied of windbreaks,
towels, buckets and spades
and other families
gone with the end of the day.
This bit of coast
belonged to you and me, sis
and mum and dad
holding hands in the sea.
I could smell candy floss
in the air
mixed with discarded
salty chips.
The swing boats on the beach,
had finished swinging today.
A name in the sand
was smoothly wiped.
With buried feet
we laid on a dune,
swept in an orange light
and watched,
never knowing
that this,
was the last
perfect day.