Sand Through Fingertips

Sand through fingertips
Flows as a waterfall
Mounding hill
Beneath the hands
No matter how hard squeezed
Or softly caressed
Sand finds its way
Through cracks and crevices
Escaping to freedom
Each time
Morning
Noon
Dusk
Each time
Sand is scooped
Piled high in hands
With hopes and dreams
But same happens as before
Beneath the hands
Mounding a hill
Flows as a waterfall
Sand through fingertips

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