Footprints,
each one bigger than the last,
then slowly they decrease,
and level off.
Fading,
high tide washing them away,
'til fin'lly they are gone,
no evidence.
I watch.
Slowly they disintegrate.
They are gone forever.
And I wonder:
Was I ever really there?
-D.B.
Author notes
Okay, for this poem, I'm using an experimental format I just arbitrarily came up with.
Basically, it is as follows:
-Syllabic format of 2,7,6,4-- that is to say, first line has two syllables, the next seven, then six, then four. Then the stanza ends.
-The poem always ends with a seven syllable single line
-No set number of stanzas.
I have no idea where this came from, but eh. 
Daniel
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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The last line is a kick! What fun! I've done my share of experimentation too! It reminds me of one by Spencer,
and of Keats' epitaph. Are we all just dissolving footprints in the sand? It makes one think.
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I like this.
Its really good....the flow of the poem is...wondeful.
Great write.
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