The road makers built a culvert so the stream

might still flow beside the ice cream kiosk

onto the beach and disappear in the sands,

as it did from before the mammoths left.

The brief delta that it forms attracts

engineers of all genders and all ages.

Some are equipped with long-handled spades,

and with robust buckets, while some make-do.

There are ten builders, navigators –

mostly strangers working in quiet harmony –

making dams, and moats for crenellated keeps.

Later, when everyone has gone and the tide

is lapping against the highest ramparts,

and washing away the sturdiest of levees,

a little egret lands at the water’s edge

for crabs and razor clams.