under stress, allow for weather and for weight,
I wonder how much more this little heart
can take today. The heaviness. Concerns,
catastrophes that build, one sitting nicely on
the one below. You know at some point it
will topple over, you just hope you're not
there underneath the load, that something,
someone will have grabbed your hand and
pulled (at least) a moment sooner, and offered
you a hug, a touch, a glass of wine, some oxygen,
a pillow to prop up your head, a foot rub,
pleasant music, candles maybe, something
nice to eat, a smile, a poem, warm cloth
to wash the dirt away, a bandage for that scrape,
the promise that there's someone on the earth
that cares and understands that little heart
with so much love to give it hurts.
(c) Ellen Gillette 2018
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