by Sana Hameed, Age 15, USA
Artwork by Katie King
The prompt of the month for August was “sand.”
We weren’t the ordinary beach goers,
Clad in layers and layers of SPF 50, replenished hourly, as if the rays of light were laser beams blazing a pattern across the naturally tanned canvas of our skin.
We latched onto any semblance of shade with bared teeth and weary eyes–
It occurred every time on “family” vacations.
Some would stand the heat, but not stand in the heat though we had bloomed under the Texas sun.
Some would stay holed up in a hotel room, enjoying the view from afar, wide-eyed and wondering.
Some would try to swim on occasion but “the ocean salt burned” so left quickly with downturned faces and grief-laden tears.
We mourned the death of time off rather than our time together, and that was our biggest mistake.
The sand we ran atop so briefly rushed, ran, plummeted through the hourglass,
Falling faster than we ever wanted, in time with the steady tick tock of my father’s Grandfather clock.
We were safe, too safe. Allowing the minutes, hours, days to pass us by.
And to the memories we never had a chance to make
We couldn’t say goodbye.
Sana Hameed is a teenage poet inspired by the people and things around her.