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Donall Dempsey
Poems
Sep 2017
MY MOTHER’S HANDS
MY MOTHER’S HANDS
My mother’s hands
washing potatoes
washing kids
washing pans.
My mother’s hands
on bitterly cold days
******* yet more washing
on a pregnant line
the line growing nothing but
nappies
her hands blind
with the cold.
My mother’s hands
ironing clothes
ironing clothes
ironing countless knickers
for my seven sisters.
My mother’s hands
taking my hands
in hers
such love...such laughter!
My mother’s hands
patting talcum powder
on another baby’s ***.
Mum being Mum.
Me, kissing
my mother’s hands
for all...they’ve done.
Written by
Donall Dempsey
Guildford
(Guildford)
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