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r-2Poems
Those things these hands have held gently -textured care- tactile curiosities life's measure A small, blue bird's egg broken -sadly- mocking nature's symmetry Ice cold -cold- water making shape A stone arrow point sharp still -old- black as death My mother's hand warm -caring- now long gone A small dog wiggling -happy- nipping, licking fingers A woman smooth -soft- curving heat My son my son, my son -my son- now grown, love unmeasurable A coin gold -only- worth little Those things these hands have held measured -treasured- memorized lifelines. r ~ 8/12/14
0
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
Hands
Those things these hands have held gently -textured care- tactile curiosities life's measure A small, blue bird's egg broken -sadly- mocking nature's symmetry Ice cold -cold- water making shape A stone arrow point sharp still -old- black as death My mother's hand warm -caring- now long gone A small dog wiggling -happy- nipping, licking fingers A woman smooth -soft- curving heat My son my son, my son -my son- now grown, love unmeasurable A coin gold -only- worth little Those things these hands have held measured -treasured- memorized lifelines. r ~ 8/12/14
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r-2
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r-2
American
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC
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