Upon soft sand life stands
still yet we see flickers
the wings count
there beats
Every particle dust mote
floats by such small things
impressed by all eyes
Wind is still
trickles sweat
from the brow
taste of salt
much it should
to us all
Wanders not in such
stillness tranquility
solid water vapors
eye still can see dropp
floating up waiting
antisapating when
said such accumulation
will appear
Wash me clean
pure is the rain
held so dear all
know make clear
Mind can so hear
whisper thats near
while upon soft sand
do so still stand
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Very nicely written, this poem has a wimsical flow about it. Your choice of words, supurb. The picture it paints in my head is like that of the old masters, rough, but with very fine detail. Thank you for shareing this peaceful piece 'Keep on inking the Pages' Poison