Grains of sand
Through fingers fall
Downward silent
Without call
To rejoin brothers
In endless plight
Wax and wane
Day to night.
Baked dry in
The summer rays
Washed and cleansed
By oceans ways
Repetition still
Without voice
The circle of life
Gives no choice,
The breaking fury
Rolling waves
Tossed and turned
Twisted curved
To rise and fall
At anothers will
Resting only when
The calm does bring.
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: March 11th, 2026 03:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments2
A fine write N. WILL you go to the Co-op? lol.
thanks always appreciated, the coop is now costcutters, with very high prices, they should have a recovery aisle for people who faint at the prices lol
Yes lol.
This poem seems a poem of recycling whether sand or in metaphor people. It flows well and calls out for stillness in the calm. Nicely done Norman
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