Sand In Our Shoes
Pictures carefully laid away in tissue paper
on a shelf in a corner of the mind –
soft impressions on a sandy blanket
under a blue and white umbrella -
children jumping in the cresting surf,
laughing, splashing, ducking waves –
the smell of coconut tanning oil –
gritty sandwiches and warm soda.
Soft, meltaway evenings of fireflies -
the flickering glow of candlelight –
lingering aroma of grilled meat,
roasted potatoes, and corn on the cob –
the comfort of worn flowered cushions
on the glider and wooden rocking chairs –
glasses of wine, convivial conversations
with friends on the wide wrap-around porch.
Time and place have a habit of shifting
as the years slip by without concern,
more often than not without our noticing.
We are pushed forward, by days and years,
toward whatever is beyond our ken,
but when we open those safely preserved
albums of memories we stored away,
for just a moment there is sand in our shoes.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
