The Sand Falls

From orb to orb

The turning tides

The spinning globe

No scene abides

For all is change

And swiftly flown

The youth forgot

The aching known

And what comes next

We often dread

The last gavotte

Before the dead

Must sand be feared?

It simply falls

We measure loss

While Heaven calls

To ceaseless joy

Delights untrod

The glass tipped o’er

By grace of God.

Doug Blair, Waterloo, Ontario

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