A peculiar rush of bewilderment; countless imitators
could never duplicate the feeling; duplicating the obvious
is a strenuous chore, the pretenders will have their hands full
of do overs. Grizzled, repetitious hands that could never rest;
chapped by experience, breaks of the skin represent victorious
persistence. Remains of the time, the mileage to that seemingly
unreachable destination; the destination was here all along.
Incomplete conclusions are necessary evils, the hands that
sign the papers of a supposed settlement. The hands that
can carry their own, the hands that can ward off unruly
adversaries. The underdog is alive and well.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem