My Monday letter to Gracie ,

Of the Mondays on the shores which bear the borders of our feet,

Of each grain of sand now kept in the closed closets of my heart ,

The hours of the running grains , so tender yet so eminent ,

If to be known , to make an eternal walk across the shores ,

On the Mondays of our lives way back then when we knew not ,

Of our solemn walks , so solitary , yet so immensely paired ,

In the finest spring of our lives , so young , yet so learned ,

So learned , that we hath our brisk feet walk but slower ,

Thinking it may make the sands of time but eternal for a moment