Lifting the sand,
I watch it sifting thru my hands,
Realizing it is somewhat symbolic
Of the events in my life;
Each grain is a day,
A sweet memory,
A past adventure.

The ocean waves
That sweep the sand out to sea
Are the tears I have wept in the past,
Tears of pain,
Tears of loss;
Every crest represents
Another shattered dream.

Rays of the sun
That stream across the beach
Remind me of the love,
The pleasure once experienced,
Acts of kindness,
Moments of tenderness,
A beautiful feeling of golden warmth.

Gentle breezes that blow
Are the hands of loved ones
Who somehow touched me,
Mother's on my forehead when I was a child,
Father's holding mine in the park,
The tender caress of a first love,
All cherished sensations
Inside my heart.

THIRD STREET CAFE

The poetry of a thousand nights
Haunts this room,
An underlying heartbeat,
Somewhere beyond these candles,
This incense,
The shadows on the wall,
Somewhere beyond the aroma of gourmet coffee,
The smoky haze,
The quiet music.

The voices of those who have been here before,
Friday nights with a cup of tea,
Pour their hearts out in verse,
Beats of a generation,
Some still living,
Others a memory by now.
What do they think, seeing us here,
Sharing what they used to share?

Sitting in the corner,
I can almost see them,
Drifting about the tables,
Lingering on stage,
Still speaking the words they love.
Laughter, tears,
Rhythm and poetry,
All thru the years,
Here, in the Third Street Cafe.