Sand Poem by Irene Pang

Sand



Holding a pile of sand in thy hands,
thou watch'st with awe-
a pile of sand; a myriad of grains,
then collected; now dissipated.

Through the gaps of thy fingers
where the flesh failed to cover,
the sand oozeth and seepeth
down to the beach,
forever remote from thy reach.

Irene Pang
Sunday, May 4, 2008
poem poems beach
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Poems By Irene Pang
Blood
I Am Afraid
Sand
Rose
The Great Purge
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