As the shadows grow larger so do my thoughts
Sun beating down on my already fragile body
Blocking out my vision
But not my hands
Staring at my hands in the shadows
Looking exceptionally large
Hard like tree trunks
Swinging uncontrollably in the shadows and warm sun
They do not feel like the hands I have carried around for three decades
Feeling weighted down by everything
Holding more than they asked for
Looking at the skin on the back of them
Very unfamiliar
Not cold and blue
Nor sweaty
Just exceptionally heavy
Why have they been given more than they can hold?
Because they are much stronger than they realize
And always will be