It’s become old photographs
and sand between my toes.
For that’s all left
in existence now –
a tribute to past,
Memories entangled
in all the smooth places;
where life meets breath
for brief moments
if only to separate
and return to stone
as if their origin
doesn’t remain.
It’s fragile now,
for your photograph has
cracked and fades
and the sand becomes
a blister against your heel.