by The Dirty Latte

She tried to stay by the beach

And recreate their memories

But the tide came in and pushed her back

To the reality that no matter what she did

Their footprints were the thing of the past.

The cold November wind chased her around

Confining her to couches and blankets

And nobody saw the way her smile faded

Like the sunshine and the green leaves

Leaving in their trail a promise

Of another summer.