Quick Sands

by Nicole
(FL, USA)

The tides of sands, savor skin;
It's drift, burning, no certain kin.
Mires of mesh, stifle each gasp;
Prior ebbs, rankle the overcast.
The sandpiper pardons, who's sake;
As footprints dissolve into no lake.
Information highways, back online;
Except, more detours this time.
But, it's Hawker will return,
More living to learn.
For it is no lie,
You will feel life, before it dies.



by Nicole

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