Playing In The Sand
By Donald Raab
Can one ever know the beauty of a simple grain of sand?
Tossed about in carelessness and sifted by someone’s hand.
They’re washed up on our beaches and sent back with the tide;
The looking glass of society reflecting the thoughts we hide.
Always felt but never seen like something left behind;
For the individual nobody cares, still the grains don’t seem to mind.
They’re the crystals of the beaches yet treated like so much dirt;
We just shake them off our towels and brush them off our shirts.
The kings of our children’s boxes but to us so many pawns;
We should ask ourselves this question, Would we miss them were they gone?
Copyright © by the owner.
