Home

A Smell of Sand

by S. Pelham Flood

Like the sand
I can't control my fate
the wind can bend trees
I stand no chance
I have no roots
just flippant truancy
a job that pays
a bed too big
a dependence on tequila.

Before you, I was sand
When the sun rose
I was sand
a part among many
I touched people
but they moved on
swept me back.

When the moon
broke through cloud
I laid there, dull like many
but you came
the wind
and I float
a flag with no pole
a finch, no nest.

Turn me into paint
maybe a stroke of red
among blues and flesh
keep me
on anchors in drywall
I'm tired of wind.

11/01/2008

Posted on 11/02/2008
Copyright © 2024 S. Pelham Flood

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 11/03/08 at 01:28 AM

Intriguing metaphor. Tired of the wind or tequila? Maybe some relationship there!

Posted by Nanette Bellman on 11/03/08 at 07:09 PM

tequile is a terrible dependence. i would know. and a bed too big, oh my. very great images here and moving as well.

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2024 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)