Sorting the sand

Sorting the sand

A Poem by Jon Roggie

Each grain is different,
 hiding their own story.

This one?
  It made a widow cry.
   Drifting in the wind,
     and made contact.
Added some sincerity to an emotionless scene.

Each has a story.

That one?
 Less fortunate.
  Led to some scratching,
    and not in culturally accepted places.
The host noticed,
 and was not amused.

I hold a hand of sand.

Each grain blows in the wind.

All have a story.

Living in a desert,
 I am surrounded by tales,
  waiting to be heard.

All eternal,
 all prisoner of the wind.

© 2018 Jon Roggie


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Added on November 12, 2018
Last Updated on November 12, 2018

Author

Jon Roggie
Jon Roggie

Porterville, CA



About
I tend to ramble, and rarely explain myself. Take that as you will more..

Writing