Kingsbrae 17.1
17 June 2017
Sandman 2
The sandman brings sand
to put in the sandwiches
we have packed for the beach.
It’s as coarse and fierce as salt
flowing through an hourglass,
or red sand in an egg-timer,
not clockwork and wound,
but the sort you turn upside
down. Sand: it counts each
minute of each day, turns
minutes into hours, hours
into days, sands the stone
block of our lives, like a sculptor,
into smaller, more manageable
shapes and chunks. Sand sticks
to our clothes, makes us wash
our hands and brush ourselves
thoroughly before we sit down
to eat the sand that has sneaked
into the lunch-time sandwiches
we brought to nibble on the sands.
Comment: This is another example of the effects of a rewrite that takes place in a different time and place. The original of this poem appeared in the blog on my father’s birthday, 17 May 2017. Sandman 1 can be see by clicking on the title. A quick comparison shows how the themes have changed an meaning has been deepened in the later version, Sandman 2, published above. I am intrigued by the differences caused by a change of time and place. There is room for still more development in this poem. It will be un to see Sandman 3, if it evolves further.
rogermoorepoet 
Perhaps this is why we enjoy the beach! Sand in the hourglass counts time but sand on the beach is timeless!!
Dwight
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That’s a lovely comment. If I do a third version, I may well try to work that in … great image … and a very intriguing new direction … thank you!
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You are welcome to use it! I will look forward to seeing what you come up with!!
Dwight
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After going back and reading the first version, I agree that the meaning has been deepened in the poem in this version. It also makes for a polished read…
polished by the sands of time, I suppose. Lol
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Polished by the sands of time, indeed. I’ll use that again later. Thank you.
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😊❤
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I have to click back and read the first one, but I love this version. It reminds me of my grandmother’s “sandy” beach hamburgers when we used to boat with them on the Mississippi. They are both in their 90’s now, and I am blessed to have them. The sandbar days are long gone though.
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that’s great, Tanya. When a poem reaches out beyond its immediate audience, that is wonderful.
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