Grain of Sand
Would I ever forget
finding in my pocket
a grain of silvery sand
rasping upon my hand.
Although just a granule,
trivial and minuscule,
gently it whispers that
I, too, am a mere dot.
At the end of a track
the last note is struck;
relax the gripping hand,
life vanishes like sand.
Copyright © Wilfredo Derequito | Year Posted 2007
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