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