Standing Poem by James McLain

Sounding trillions of grains the
sand it flows from me
washing over rivers to dry
as she creaks.
Ocean waits for peace to hear
me slumber again
laying down getting up
never again
Under sand the scarf that binds me
meek is gone eruption of
flame to your picture
of water to cool.
Nothing but sand on my mind eyes
are blind to the call of sea
to sooth all my fears.
Dynasty's crumble and fall at the
slash of just one
single tear.