Collection

Alone, in a vastness of white sand A tiny blade of life extends itself upward Through its hard, dried bed

Alone, but for wind and sound of seas The tiny blade, tool of the wind, bends forward, then backward Swaying with the moving life which only the wind can give

The blade makes a sketch in the sand An enchanted band

Soon, the coming tide brings greedy fingers to the sand Pulling shells, stone and sand to sea Greed, kissed with one last grasp...then nothing