A candy striped knitted blanket covers were frail thighs,
resting underneath her hands that have baked bread, dug earth and planted tulips.
Hands that have stroked the head of a new born baby, still glistening and ******.
Hands that have crawled out thirties Jewish ghettos.
I reached out to touch them and she turned to me and said,
'Even my wrinkles have wrinkles'