True Grit

On a warm beach
Grains of sand
Fly free, riding the wind,
Timeless tiny tyrants
Biting flesh of the unaware
Sand in an hourglass
Caged, marking time.
I try to embrace this ‘’new normal’’
But I’m not good at it
I want to be flying like beach sand
Not looking over my shoulder,
Running from time.
I sense my sandy self, slipping
Becoming unsure, quiet
The phone rings
It’s you
Oh! my friend – so good to hear your
voice again
I think
In reality I say hello.
My voice gritty
My sentences: short and monotone.
Long-ago we were lovers
Making sand castles in the air
You still know me
Enough to turn my thoughts
Into words
And you do.
The conversation is great.
But one-sided.
I feel it
You hear it.
Too soon, excuses made, we hang up.
Sand, silently slips through my


Used by permission of the author.

Grace Heim

Marketing professional and Parkinson bad-ass, Grace Heim uses her creative side as a form of therapy. Writing, photography and dabbling ...more