What is Sand?

Hot, rough yes,

But what is it?

Is it just a covering

For the desert floor

Or is it more?

It's a hot, parching day

Sun on your back,

Your throat so dry it hurts to breathe

Not even water stands a chance

Or is it time?

Slowly passing as each grain falls from the timer

With out realizing it, our life slowly, stealthily slips away

With each grain of sand, we die a little more

What is sand

But a home?

To all creatures of the sea

Crabs, turtles and shells all dwell in this dry oasis called sand

It's summer vacation

People laughing, playing, and relaxing

Sun on your face and wind in your hair

It's a renewing source of energy

It's a boring book

So dry you can taste it

Suffocating you

Until you want to scream and throw the book down

What is sand?

Is there anyway to answer that?

It holds to many reasons

To be just one thing. . .