Despite the sand which urges down
so boundless and careless,
so hurting my fingers,
I still keep the memory of our sudden madness,

The sound of power and
The shout of wind
Thundering in my ears.

I hunger over those days
Missing them
so much that
I follow the blind tremor
slithering behind my ecstatic joy.

(c) 2018, MK

Sunday Whirl #339 offered very nice words today, as always 🙂

Author: soul mary

Writer, poet and reader

2 thoughts on “Sand”

  1. I like the way you used the sounds in the words together. I like the place of yearning that “moment of madness” brings.

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