Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Particles

Through the rising and falling of tides,
In the sweat of the sand,
Come the beating of hearts that were never
Interred on the land.
In the stealthiest whisper, the quietest
Groan of remorse,
Follow fragments of blood that is still
Bravely running its course.
Pulsing fast and then drifting, mere molecules
Now long deprived,
Of the faces and names of those whom they had
Helped keep alive.
Crashing in again, out again, still kept at
Bay by the coast.
Always turning, returning, and
Swallowed again by their host.

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