Letting Go

His pincers began to feel
heavy, so very heavy he
could hardly hold up his
arms and stiff, so stiff he
could hardly grasp and
clasp all the things, so
he let go. His pincers
turned to hands. He
turned them upward,
open toward the sky
and he looked at all
the lines and wrinkles
and then he lifted them
out of the cold water
and the sun warmed
them and he lifted his
arms as high as they
could go; he stretched
and stretched and let
them fall at his sides.
He breathed deeply
and walked home.

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