Dedicated to my Great Aunt Martha
Waves beat relentlessly at the memory shoreline,
stealing grain after grain of memories,
faces, and past loves,
even as the deafening moon overtakes the scrambled sun.
An incessant cycle of life.
A dismantled, eroded reality in which to dwell.
Some days the waves are placid and memories strong.
Grains of sand planted firmly in place.
Those days…are good.
You know me.
You know you.
The mirror doesn’t lie.
The truth doesn’t hide.
A woman existing in the present ages.
We share countless laughs as our spirits rise.
Other days...are worse.
Copious granules are eroded,
lost to the insatiable, tumultuous sea.
Devoured and lost among the waters forever--
forgotten by the earth.
You don’t know me.
You don’t know you.
The mirror lies.
Your anguished, frightened screams
echo through your forgotten home.
A woman lost in time,
trapped in the past,
lost to the present.
We cry in solitude as our stomachs drop.
Eventually, the shoreline will be gone,
a casualty of the everlasting world,
a product of life,
but the grains will persist amongst the waves.
From dust we came, to dust we shall return.
But dust will always be.
Occasionally overlooked it is,
yet never completely forgotten.
A speck will catch our eye one unexpected moment, and
every time our eyes settle on a speck of sand,
we will look to the sea--
the place where you were finally set free.
Ireland Smith is a junior pursuing a degree in Biomedical Sciences with minors in Chemistry, Psychology, and Literature. Through her writing, she hopes to express real-life conditions and diseases in a way that fosters empathy and understanding in those reading. She also enjoys writing and reading fantasy fiction. Ireland would like to thank her family, friends, and professors for their encouragement in her writing and career goals.