Your Hand is Heavy

Hello, fellow homo sapiens held down by gravity on this spinning sphere in space.

Your hand is heavy on my head,

Like thousands of years weighing me down,

Thousands of memories,

A thousand loves,

A thousand rocks making a mountain. 

Bowed down by the weight of a feather,

A thousand birds singing one song

To the man on the mountain,

A thousand emotions running down

His weathered cheeks. 

What is a memory but a feather,

A heavy hand on my head,

The birds singing to the man 

Of a thousand years with a thousand loves,

A thousand rocks making a mountain.

Linda Peachey, 2020

Words tangling on my tongue, honey warm, peppermint sharp, black tea bitter.