Shifting sands have brought to me
Familiar hands, familiar eyes,
Souls I never thought I’d see
Held fast and blind with roots and ties.
Taken away have been the fragile ones
Their thin facade not meant to last,
Tears a mirror for cold grey stone
Their faces flat and polished like glass.
I kick the pale sand with a weary foot
It sprays up high into the atmosphere,
And returns to me as black as soot
Grist for my meal of hope and fear.
Goodbye, I cry, and fare thee well,
Adios, amigas y amigos!
So long, until we meet again and when
the wheel stops, well nobody knows.
I cannot lay a tribute at your feet
that could measure your worth to my heart,
Merry we part and merry we meet
I treasure both crack and the eggshell start.

© Tina Zabielski 2011-2019