An old man holds his grandchild as the waves crash impulsively into their sun-kissed bodies

Their union, strong; their gaze, intense as they face the horizon

A bond deeper than bloodline they share, for their souls now commune

Their embrace is pure, as is their laughter

Her hand small against his wrinkled one,

Yet her touch has rekindled his heart that never knew such joy

For she sees beyond his frayed appearance, his worn-out exterior

She sees beyond a man whose time is running out

And the memories of this day will remain always as fresh as the ocean water that now surrounds their being

And as she lays upon her deathbed, her hand will once again seek shelter in his wrinkled hand

For what she has there is yet no cure

But he soon will follow her tiny footsteps left behind in the sand…