The Sand Queen
28 years and the Sand Queen let sand drip through herhands, and 28 years and there were literature
and wonder when she rolled in the night's grains, 28 years
and she brought all the beach song once far from here.
In the green-tone desert, 28 years of the same.
Once I was of some other order and now the same.
And if I should find care where the sand flows, where rhyme is all
there is, cherish, and another 28 may fall.
Poetry by Vincent Caruso
Read 451 times
Written on 2009-01-27 at 18:03
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
