Wondering

Sometimes I wonder how the grain of sand at the top of the beach 

Unable to trickle slowly back into the sea.

Dehydrated white faced with the improbability of solace in security 

Sometimes I wonder if the tide works 

as hard to get back the sand 

that it has lost. 

As a tireless act of recertification.

Chipping away at its foundations in a bid to restore the way it once was. 

Sometimes I wonder how I ended up here.

Thinking about the thoughts of inanimate objects 

Avoiding the reality of my own uncertainty.