Buried in The Sand

Regret is a passive plea, 

not unlike the charade of castles in my dreams, 

built from cards and flattened by an unforeseeable breeze. 

The sea is to blame, some say, 

and also the moon and its gravitational pull, 

and all the earthly materials of which I'm made. 

I am less alive for each day I awake, 

in this hourglass in which I wait, 

day after day, buried in the sand, 

and night after night, revived upside-down to drown again.

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

Oh I love the sea and sand all those sea metaphors fantastic and then the hourglass brilliant poem

[Robert Haigh]

Each day we are nearer to death... but on a more cheerful note, we can live each day as it comes and try to make each one worthwhile.