Standing in a sandbox with a bucket and spade
you have wishes to fill and dreams to create
and after hard work for a couple of days,
hands and eyes both scratched by the grains,
what beautiful castles you’ve built
what beautiful shapes you have made
but the wind gently blows so it all falls away,
and someone’s broken your bucket
and buried your spade


6 thoughts on “Sandbox

  1. hi Elena,
    the sandbox of time will encounter many grains along the way, if someone breaks your bucket and buries your spade …. then it is time to get new ones that are indeed hurricane proof …. Jim


  2. Pingback: A Year in Poems | elena christina

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