dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: hands

hosanna
a blade of grass
blown between the thumbs
eyes claim to see
staring into sun
in the highest

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Our sweaty hands

Reached up and pulled them as they waved,

Fistfuls of summer leaves

Whose veins ran cool through

Green apple skin and

Soft undersides.

We held them up

Until our skin turned pink

And the sun spun purple in our eyes.

Around our fingers, each leaf curled,

Then with sun rays fell

And stayed a while in our front yard.


//

We grew parallel
Like fingernails
On the hands of a stranger
From our hometown.

Painted or bitten
On whims,
Scraped across skin
Unfamiliar,

Years have added
No strength or scars,
The future is far
From changing us.


We keep sliding on the soft underside

Of the bar of soap,

Hoping

No grimy fingers

Will press us 

Further in,

Already held by a sudsy glue,

We knew

We wanted clean hands,

But we’re not purified,

Just coated with white film,

Growing unnoticed beneath

A thick tombstone.


Cherry red fingernails

Tap dance on a keyboard,

Callused palms

Grip a board and a saw.

Rotating wrists

Knit rows of warmth,

Muddy, curious fingers

Build sandy forts high.

Mind, body and soul,

We all work hard.

 


Her latest,

Fondest wish

Has fallen into

Life’s chubby,

Childish fingers that

Jerk

On dangling dreams

Like sparkling earrings,

Grab

Hope’s soft, furry tail

When it bounces past, and

Pound

The most solid, inborn desires

Until a pair of larger hands

Bring silence

And peace.