After so many years,
You gave me back my Heart,
and I have no place to keep it.
What can I do with it?
Like hands when public speaking,
how do I perform my daily tasks
with a nervous heart hanging around
awkwardly with no purpose.
I can’t ask just anyone to help me hold it,
when I am shifting my load or opening a heavy door.
I must set it down, and when I do,
it ends up getting cold and bruised.
Some day soon, I will set it in the wrong place,
and someone not paying attention
will crush it as they pass with an innocent foot.
“What the hell,” that careless person will say.
“It’s not your fault,” I will say wiping
the foot with something handy laying about.
“I just can’t hold it all of the time. Sorry, about the mess.”
I hope whoever it is will understand.
Maybe before that happens I will find a warm
nest for my Heart to rest in.
My breath will come a little easier then.
Maybe I will build one.
I wonder if I could look that up
On Wikipedia or find one for not too much on Amazon.