The children
stuck there at the top of the ferris wheel 
swaying between this view and that
spying
an open boat comfortably settled in the sand
decide on further investigation 
it's only at the end of the day
exhausted and entering sleep
the children
aware water follows every path down
know
they'll run a proud hand along 
the smooth gunwales of their own little skiff
thought they might sink it, sell it, burn it
the heartache of knowing
a freshly-painted darling of the waves
almost almost within reach
consumes them
just for the next day
no
forevermore