Big Hand

A big hand never released the big men,
Their face relaxed, wrinkles deepening,
Gazing started and stopped for they were big.
During the night was a trough, and a crest,
Graphs of paper gripped us with mighty weather,
Eyes became alert, ears sensed the meanings,
Words took effect, and words were a pleasure,
Somebody with a line of graphical art
Should sway the earth and soil.
The head slammed as the big hand was released.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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