Friday, October 19, 2018

Down to the Surf

I thought I knew who I was
Now I'm collecting the pieces
Walking down the beach
with my round red sifter
Hoping to find some strands of gold
And if the filaments slip
through the seams
So fine is the width
of understanding
Free from the plastic
Mesh of effort
in my hands
It will not stop me
from kneeling down to the surf
And trying again.