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My hands do things I’m not aware of

They hide my keys
In the pockets
Of freshly laundered pants

Inside many
Pieces of furniture

Dangling from my bicycle lock
(For 3 hours)

Hanging from the front door lock
(All day long)

By a flower growing
In the crack
Of a sidewalk
That I had knelt down
To examine

In the fridge
I know

My hands lock my keys up
In the backyard shed

In the trunk of a car

In a car’s ignition
With the motor running
No joke

And of course
Inside my house
While I am
Outside my house

One day my hands
Unbeknownst to me
Will lock all of the doors
And throw all of the keys
annh Jan 2019
Why do you scurry along life's unlit byways
Your head bowed, fists jammed in your pockets?
To avert calamity? To guarantee success?

Did you miss the turn-off?
In your busyness and inattention
Did you forget to read the signposts?

Lift your eyes from the ground
Slow your pace and stretch the kink from your neck
Do you know where you are?

Unfurl your empty grasp and consult your inner compass
You will find a map etched on the inside of your heart
Do you see the way ahead?

Yes, I thought so.

— The End —