Little toes and little hands sank in the mud.
Wind caressed the thin hairs
On her little arms-
The sun shining, too.
Sea sprays glistened on the mud.
The ash did as well. Ash that was
Thousands of years old,
Hiding in the mountains and volcanoes-
Ash, that could possibly be treasure.
Her little feet patted.
Her little hands squished.
Powdered shells, bones, and stones
Soared in the air. The clouds
Suppressed the sun.
Little feet patted home.