This appears in a pre-2010 issue
of Down in the Dirt magazine.
Saddle-stitched issues are no longer
printed, but you can requesting it
“re-released” through amazon sale
as a 6" x 9" ISBN# book! Email us for re-release to order.
Another grain of sand just past through my hand-
Soon they will be empty.
Each granule grows louder;
Each speck grows more significant.
The silt piles and piles into my casket
The surf skips and laughs as it hurries the procession.
As a youth, the beach seemed like a playground for the immortal- with infinite supply.
With age, fewer morsels return with the high tide.
I look out toward the sea for answers; but look back with even more questions.
The same ground that once comforted my soles- now grinds at my heals.
