Sand

Sand

No one ever sees one. You only see billions of it.
Trees, rocks, clouds, almost anything stands alone
allowing a naked judgment. That there is a tree.

You go into the forest and hack a Christmas one.
You load rocks into a wheelbarrow, and move them.
You spot an odd fishhook in some wandering cirrus.

But on the beach you lay on uncountable sands.
Not one. There is nothing to say about one sand.
And yet how important many of them can be.

It may be the most socially dependent object known.
And yet it seems insistent on covering what’s under it.
I saw an abandoned doorway, the threshold buried

in what sand does.

c. Ciprianowords Inc. 2009