the summer sand

a package
arrived in the
mail the other
day. it was full
of poetry, poems
written in the
heat of love,
in the heat of
passion,
infatuation.
poems written
when the turn
was made, written
in the cold, damp
days of things
ending. but they
were all there,
like snapshots,
photos, as pure
and clear as
they can be.
written from
the heart with
a steady hand.
all of them. all
of those words
collected and written
on the soft
fine shores of
summer sand.