Monday, September 18, 2017

Grains of Sand

Carpe Diem #1256 Grains of Sand


A Grain of Sand
Fall seems to be a melancholy time for me.  Is it the shorter days or the sun a little lower in the sky?  The answer illudes me as much now in my septuagenarian years as it did when I was 30. What I do know is my thoughts turn to the past more than to the future.  At this moment in that past there lives the memory of my daddy.  He was a cut-up.  He could create and recite iambic pentameters on the fly.  Most of those poems were just silly little ditties about something happening at the time.  His fun nature brought a great joy to all around him.  So much fun that when he died even his great grandchildren wept at his loss.  But I delight on this September morn as I recall Daddy sitting at the supper table and reciting portions of Longfellow's A Psalm of Life.   My mind's ear hears his voice saying,  "... and departing leave behind us footprints on the sands of time."

oh!
little grain of sand
rolling around
you bumped against
my memory


©  petra domina

Thanks to Chèvrefeuille for daily prompts on

CARPE DIEM HAIKU KAI