Never In The Hands
what's solid keeps shifting,
a kind of slow slide
beneath the day's footing—
a small body of water
giving way to something larger
held just past the edge
of keeping it together—
and still the errands call,
each list a small task
to steady the shake
that never shows in the hands
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 1st, 2026 08:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3

Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.