Sand
Look at those grand
pontificating waves
that break their wise old beards
on the long sea strand;
full of the weight
of the ocean they are
born of weather and years.
They know everything
and rise to the ignorant sand,
tower briefly over
importantly, imparting.
Look at the sand,
the millions of it, struck dumb,
for a moment appalled
and seething with sudden news,
the next
ignorant as ever
as though no wise old wave
had ever called.