Strong Hands

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 

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