The POTW: Verse Til It Hurts


POTW #755
(Week of 6 February, 2011)

I spent a little time at the beach this weekend.


A hundred billion tons of sand
The quiet dust of rocks
Ground away by the hour hands
Of giant millennial clocks
A loose terrain of dunes and drifts
Accumulates as whimsy may
It capers, pirouettes and shifts
The land at windy play
A single grain the poster child:
So thoroughly chopped and filed
That it can barely be said to be
Epitome of lack of size
Completely out of mental view
Except for the case when it occupies
The inside of my shoe
(Or, for that matter, my food)

Copyright © 2011 by Dave Grossman

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