Ageing with the sands of time

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At thirty-eight
it is almost impossible
to have both dignity
and audacity enough
to demand the driver – STOP
at the seaside shop,
so as to purchase
bucket and spade.

Nevertheless, I roam
the shore, combing it
for small items:
pebbles, shells, seaweed, and sticks.
Concentration in the sand follows,
and once complete,
in order to claim
adult respectability,
I announce the opening
of my Zen sand garden!

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12 thoughts on “Ageing with the sands of time

  1. The end of the opening verse earned you a guffaw Down Under just now. On reflection I recognised the driver command as something that you would indeed do; I think I even heard it. While the second stanza is poignantly and poetically nostalgic it fails to conceal the little girl. All three snapshot scenes are wonderful.

    • As we were leaving, a little girl walked past with a drink, which she spat out over the sand garden….I had to stifle my urge to pull a perturbed/indignant facial expression, point my finger at her, stamp my feet, and exclaim “she spoilt it, she spoilt it!”. Instead I continued with the zen theme, and maintained a demure and serene expression as I stepped into the car…

  2. ha nice…i may need a zen sand garden as well… character-wise i think we remain all unfinished til the end probably…and even more important to just be in the moment and walk with what we got

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