It is a slow roll.
Glacier creep.
Stone to sand.
Making a mountain
into a beach
one eon at a time.
A billion sins,
if one reflected on
eternity,
and not each breath
and heartbeat.
Would it be
that we might linger
a little longer
at the threshold,
before we too
were turned
back into dust?
A recollection
of a billion starlights.
A memory
in sand.
HG – 2020
