Light Footprints

Light footprints upon the sand;
Someone's path across the land.
The sand is soft and warm and wet.
As if trying to forget,
It starts to fill what's left behind.
The prints become more hard to find.
Before they fully melt away
I trace their arcing, winding way.
They lead me to the restless sea.
I look behind - this cannot be.
From the driftwood on the shore;
The wrecked old boat, the wooden door,
From the waves and bladderwrack,
I see there are no footprints back.