Friday, May 20, 2016

Billet-doux: the language of hands

conveys
what
soil
wishes
what
light
kisses
I'm
wishing
spirals
of
zucchini
for
lunch
FYI
ate
a poem
for
breakfast

1 comment:

  1. Circular

    my hands as I look at these gloves of yours
    chapped
    itchy
    just pulling clothes out of washer that broke
    vacation hands which start a painting
    and watch it daily for new ideas to emerge on it, in it, around it

    these hands which hold others

    which held hers and hers and his and theirs

    my grandmother watching me spread butter on a piece of toast,
    you do that just like your father

    her hands which made so many lovely pies and roasts and reached for her Camel as it burned in the ashtray by the window where we sat with our tea and cookies and listened to the tales of townspeople and watched the birds in her backyard

    her hands which ironed clothes and washed dishes and held us when They were not around

    which I did not get to
    before she

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