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Sand

 

The Sands of Life

We are all but little grains of sand on the beach of life.

James Tucci, September, 2013

Photograph by Matthew Tuthill

Labor Day Weekend 6 AM EDT

Riviera Beach, Florida

The End of Summer- by James Tucci

The End of Summer- by James Tucci.

The End of Summer

The bay was rather still

It doesn’t blow most days till the afternoon

The leaves on the trees slightly moved

They would be turning orange and red in another few weeks.

The sand was still hot in the afternoon

And the skies were blue

White clouds floated around

These were the waning days of summer

He lived for the summertime

And soon it would be over

The first chill in the air was only a week or two away

Fall, winter and spring were on their way

Bringing the cold, the gray, the rain and the snow

The leaves on the trees would be on the lawns and in the gutter

The sands on the beach would be cold and damp

People would be wearing their coats and jackets

The sad part was

Another summer of his life was about to go away

Never to return

These days would turn to memories

No longer the glorious moments

In time and space that he so enjoyed

When the air was fresh and salty and filled with the scents of the grass and the flowers

All he was left with

Was to pine for the next summer

But in a short amount of time

It too would disappear

Never to return

And someday

Like the sunny summer

He would disappear

by James Tucci

Miami, Florida

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