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Nov 2013
upon closer examination,
my hands,
my history.

my hands fit
irregular-sized gloves,
life summaries,
slightly worn,
marked down
for the discount table.

my creases are
covered up
underneath a few
genesis survivors.

a "handful" of
youthful blonde hairs,  
failing to depart,
as time has requested.

these blonde survivors,
refuseniks to
time's ravages,
mockery makers,
of history book writers.

yet, these cohorts few,
are in cahoots with,
wave machines,
tidal decay suppliers,
gray color,
content providers,
to the balance
of my body.

nicks and grooves,
crisscross stitches,
vanity disrepairs,
someone is
counting down lifelines,
one million billion cells,  
used up, only shells,
wreckage of death stars,
jails for membranes,  
forgetful fabric memorizers,
crumbled fractures,
patches designed by
an unknown haute couturier,
a failed revisionist
of the original conception.

All our hands.

upon closer examination,
Jubilee finale,
arrival day of the  
Halcyonian,
mythical bird,
powerful enough,
charm the winds,
calm the waves,
harbinger of
our demise.

that date,
initialized,  
DVR recorded,
visible,
right there,
upon on all
our hands,
all our history.

Source coded
in a language
for which the
Rosetta stone
yet undiscovered,
but visible,
right there,  
on all
our hands,
all our history.

Halcyon bird,
comes
when it comes,
though we,
always, surprised,
oblivious
to the obvious.

Halcyon bird,
coming, to calm,
and to lament loss,
coming,
to still the wind
and wave within
the heart,
repair the
deepest rent.

So these words,
caresses,
coming,
to calm and to lament,
from my hands
to yours,
asking modestly,
for acceptance,
for forgiveness,
for another's hands hold
mine, my heart.

Yet my hands wave on,
each wave, a day,
an entry in and on my handy ledger,
where recorded,
upon closer examination,
my hands,
my history,
the what is
as well
what cannot ever be.





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* http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/halcyonian

(Halcyonian, a mythical bird, said to have the power of charming winds and waves into calmness, associated with death)
Written a long time ago, can't remember when
Nat Lipstadt
Written by
Nat Lipstadt  M/nyc
(M/nyc)   
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