The Sand-Man

Sand moves,
making its way,
falling with grace,
building and ebbing,
til it makes a face.

Risen,
strong,
arms and legs rise,
then collapse.

Sand builds again,
forms a chest.
Deep breath.
Head, arms and legs.

He looks down.
Is this what he is now?
He touches his head,
then spots a glimpse,
of something silver,
beneath his leg.

He grows a hand,
snd reaches out,
until its soft enough to touch,
his daughters face.

Stronger now,
he lifts his leg,
and takes a step,
muscles building.

He is complete.