Were There Shells?

Who does go walking upon sand
Only to glance behind
And look at indents step for step
To count one pair left.

Then to have the gall to question
Their insubstantial friend
Where he was in times of strife and
Only with you during fine life.

And because the answer makes them feel
That hope is theirs and real
As long as they and faith hold hands
Leaving footprints in the sand.