Hands – observations and reflections

 

Hands

Dimpled hands
with chubby fingers
reach out and grasp my finger,
encircling my heart with their hold.

I hold your baby hands,
guiding,
leading,
helping you along the path.

I watch your hands still.
Strong, young, masculine hands:
hands that build,
hands that give
tender  caresses to a lover.

Your hands
surround a precious child,
encircling,
cradling,
caressing
the product of your love.

Our hands meet
as you take my arm
to guide me up the stairs.
I notice with surprise
that mine are gnarled, old,
skin paper thin and veined.

You hold my hand,
guiding,
leading,
helping me along the path.

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