Buried In The Sand

I went to the beach as a child
my brother buried me in the sand
nothing visible except my head and hands
quite content in the earth’s embrace
until the sun burned my face
and my thirst forced me out into the world again.

As a teenager I buried myself in lies
started out with small white ones
then it seemed I couldn’t utter the truth
my words became more difficult to track
and to this day I don’t know if anything
I remember from my adolescence is true.

In my twenties I became a mother and took on
PTA, kids clubs, and after school activities.
Soon buried under the burden of too many yeses
I was teacher, nurse and chauffer.
Time with the family was minimized.
I thought it was my job to save the world.

When the children were gone, work became the focus
board meetings and big decisions
running groups of people and their activities
buried under administrative tasks
papers, reports, and budget ledgers
no time to reflect, finding it harder to breathe
and then I quit.

With retirement I’m buried
under the expanse of time.
I've learned how to fill it without schedules
and daily demands from other people.
The emptiness beckons forth
creativity in all its forms
but this too shall end
and once again I’ll be buried in the sand.















Pictures by Bill