Memory, hubris, destruction
A poem
Some people made sandcastles;
He destroyed them.
Some people fed love to their hearts;
He fed his heart to the flames.
Wild, wild oceans and raging foam,
Seagulls swimming in the sea—
What crashed upon the rocks and that time forgot?
A childhood memory.
Nothing, and something,
And nothing again.
But now, now, right now
—Now
There’s something.
No minutes, just a grain.
It’s already slipped away.
-Robert Weaver.
