We live in oceanic tides
Students come and go
Papers left on the sands
A sort of flotsam
A kind of evidence
That teachers, janitors
Gather up and stack
In graded piles
I've walked the beaches for miles
Seen the ebb and flow
Heard the roaring tides
Been mindful of gulls wheeling
Picked up a beautiful shell or two
Stood silently and waited for sunset