INNOCENT AS SAND

The jar
stood on the uppermost shelf.
It was, I knew, my grandmommy's prized collection.

On my toes, on a chair, I pulled it
down, but it would not stay within
my grasp.

With a crash, it scattered
grains of sand
and shells
from a thousand beaches.

When my grandmommy saw the floor,
the jar wrecked,
she wilted and cried,
and I stood still,
innocent as the sand.

Dylan Solomon, 8th Grade
Standley Middle School
Golden Triangle, California