The Dust of Dinosaurs
What is the combined age of all the stars
in the universe put together?
A mathematician could work that out on a board.
A computer would have the answer stored.
“You see all this sand on the shore?
It is the dust of dinosaurs,”
I told my fellow school friends,
as we smelt seaweed and hunted for crabs
on the long, flat, summer beach,
and the wind blew through the marram grass.
“What happened was, a dinosaur died on the shore,
then, first he became a big white bony skeleton,
which then, over the years, turned to yellow dust,
all this sand we can see and hold in our hands.”
My companions pondered my words, remained mute.
“I didn’t know that,” one of them said,
still a bit puzzled, breaking the silence, the tension.
“So sand is dinosaur dust?”
“That’s right,” I replied,
as we continued our search for crabs,
and watched the fish and chip boat
slide out of Liverpool Bay
on its slow sail to the Isle of Mann.