Young girls, there were two, in boots, pink and blue, standing near the cold, angry sea, Shouting over the wind, giggling at the sea and the world of us, and dreaming of life to come. And for all that surrounded them they were all that was good and precious and worthy to be held as shining. And though we will fail them and they us we should not forget them, diminish them for they were all we will ever be on that day When the cold, green Atlantic raged before their play.