A Hand
First Love's Touch,
mutual gathering was only through them,
our Hands.
We poets celebrate
Hearts and Souls;
Love too wields magic,
but neglect too often
those stalwart two-
the human hands-
we're birth'd with.
Entwined most
in our Corporeal Destinies
yet hands occupy
in the Pantheon of Graces
a position lower than should be.
Consider birth's first
is a touching hand.
First our eyes open
then
we are lifted by them.
Is not reaching for love
first with these twins?
Was not my First Love
first touched by them?
Did we not, we two, hold hands
along the heart-way walkways?
Did not these two first wave
sweet hellos and partings?
What poet's mind could word
without them?
Alas, too, it was these two
which fluttered dismissively
signaling
First Love was leaving.
At death's bed
the last we reach
for nurse, loved ones
or darlings,
with be with these two hands,
[...] Read more
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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