Like Glass

Kevin Brown Poetry


I remember – now.

I think, of how -

You felt the sand grains,

Move and shift,

Beneath your feet.

Great rocks, grown smaller -

Into pebbles, smaller still,

Have come to settle,

In this small bay.

Mighty continents sprawl,

Between your toes,

Worn down over time,

And yet -

When, in furnace placed,

The dull yellows, the browns,

Transform, and become like glass.

Becoming not darker,

By time and pressures hand,

But clearer still, and reflective -

A beauty created,

A clarity obtained.

Kevin Brown © 16.10.2016

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