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Sand All life, like sand upon the shore, Is bathed by ancient rolling seas, Seared and bleached with burning sun, And cooled by gentle ocean breeze. And life, like sand, yearns to be Crafted into castle walls, A crystal vase to hold a flower, The hour-glass, in which it falls. But sand belongs upon life's shore To be blown about by bitter winds, Tossed and pulled by surf and tide, Then swept to sea, in the end. Douglas Fletcher 3/14/03 |