Though terrified and exhausted, he arrived.
Past logical reasoning, he stayed.
When shaking, scared heaps felt exposed,
He covered the mole’s hill with his mountain.

One finds strength when allowed to be tiny.
One feels like being covered in a shield, it truly hides her.

The gift of two hands, calloused and banged-up,
After years of relentless working;
Those hands cover your eyes and your neck
Hugging a head, when hugging their body is too painful,
I label this man, “The Shield.”