Shattered Sand

A little poem I wrote.

You promised, like the changing leaves
To their lover trees' roots that you would come
To me this night and replace the sun's demons
With ones of your own.

My clear eyes awaited your arrival
Anxiously like a little child, knowing
That you rarely came before your bright cousin
Set himself behind the earth.

I heard you pull up, turn my motor off.
I felt you climb in beside me, sealing me in
An envelope of your love and warmth,
Never questioning your timing.

But then the diamonds shimmered
Against the absence
Of light, and I couldn't find you anywhere.
I tried to force you to stay,
Tried to hold on to your wrist,
But you slipped
Through my fingers like a shattered hour glass.
You'd left me, taken your beach and gone
To a heavier pair of lids.