The sandpit, a scary blue clam,
Abandoned by the previous tenants.
I opened it then closed it. It did not move.
Then there came a time with a wobbly toddler,
Clean as only a little one can be,
The soles of his feet as soft as his belly.
I opened the lid of the clam shell.
I placed him on the damp sand.
I would do the same, just as tenderly,
With a begonia leaf, to make another one.