Sand

[Claytine Nisbett]

like sand, we were held, without thought

 

fallen to the wind  

 

you played with us, making silly images

 

you buried yourself among us, hiding motives

 

disillusioned, we did not know how to be unified

 

we rode along the dividing waves of politics

 

however, water, the rejuvenator, the giver of new things, revived us

 

we welded together

 

we started to make sense to each other

 

we became one voice

 

you tried to wedge yourself between our bonded grains but we would not allow it

 

the wind blew and we remained still, unmoved

 

like sand slipping through cupped hands, your time is slipping away

 

you have been exposed

 

your days are numbered and your season is up once the last grain passes through. 

[Claytine Nisbett]

Hey Mr. Chance, I don't mind at all if you share it on your FB page as long as I am sited as author of course =) 

Thank you so much for the interest and comment! 

[G. Newton V. Chance]

Clever, the twists and turns of the extended metaphor of sand. Love it, particularly the last line. Love the entire poem. Can I share it on Facebook?

[Claytine Nisbett]

thanks Althea 

[Althea Romeo-Mark]

I like the flexible sand imagery.

[Claytine Nisbett]

Thanks Will 

[Will Gentieu]

Wonderful, the imagery, soft yet resilient, if a little unnerving. Political... and passionate. "J'accuse"... "If the cap fits" feeling.

Have visited Antigua a few times including a memorable weekend of hearing quite volatile political rhetoric in the capital, calling for the ouster of the regime of the day.

 

Saludos~