Sometimes
When I hold your hand,
I can feel the wrinkles,
Signs of the sands of time
That flowed through those ancient fingers.
But sometimes
Your hands feel small in mine.
They caress my calloused hands.
Your soft fingers,
Not knowing the ravages of time.
Oct 13, 2011
Oct 13, 2011 at 11:45 PM UTC
Sometimes
When I hold your hand,
I can feel the wrinkles,
Signs of the sands of time
That flowed through those ancient fingers.
But sometimes
Your hands feel small in mine.
They caress my calloused hands.
Your soft fingers,
Not knowing the ravages of time.
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