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.