What depends on Who.

the skeletons were in the sand you see

under a light layer easily lifted

by my toes looking for a place to hide

from the sun and salt that make up that day in my memory

the sun the salt and the silence

i had curled my toes around the smooth edge

unconsciously

the way your head leans into a lover's touch

and four waves crashed into the sand's reincarnational embrace

before my absentminded hand unearthed the evidence

and came away grasping the weathered stick

i did not scream

do not count it to me as a sin

but looking at the bone in my hand i could say nothing

i ran my finger up and down the greyed tube

feeling the softness that sand gives 

as it rolls and rasps any roughness away over the years

i took it in my hand and watched how it cast a shadow

straight and thick over the dune

and then stood sending my own shadow away from the sunset

across the sand like a black ghost

He came from behind me and I did not see him

till he spoke and then I jumped

setting my toes carefully on top of the sand

as if there was nothing there

He looked at my hand clenched white around its burden

and raised his eyebrow

Oh you found one did you?

They're scattered all over these sands.

We burn them of an evening to watch the colours,

its the salt thats soaked into them, you see.

I backed away slowly unsure of what he meant

thinking of the northern lights

and how the cold people tell each other

that the swirling colours are the spirits of their little ones

playing all through the night

Maybe here too it fits

that in the midst of fire all that of beauty comes again

and we remember why we fell in love in the first place

still unsure I handed it to him

and with his sea-leather face he smiled

here, i'll put with the rest of the driftwood.

We'll have a pretty one tonight.