Poem A Day Challenge April 16, 2019

I have been occupied hand sewing appliqué to a quilt. My part must be finished is this evening, and I am not sure I will be done in time. Everything always takes longer than I anticipate, especially when dealing with 1/8 inch stitches. 

I am thankful that I had the seed for this poem started so I didn't have to start from scratch at 10:00 last night. It doesn't feel done, but it's all the time I have for it now.


these hands

these hands have 
held onto

sweethearts
friends,
brothers, sisters
children, grandchildren
my mother and father
and aging grandparents

These hands have
cradled history


bathed infants
changed diapers,
washed faces
dried tears
smacked bottoms

these hands have
brought joy


massaged 
my ailing mother
caressed lovers,
secretly
pleasured me,

these hands have 
built things

held hammers,
pounded nails,
painted walls
sanded and
repaired furniture

these hands have 
created beauty

measured bodies,
cut and stitched fabric
wound yarn
worked needles 
and hooks

these hands have
mucked in dirt

planted seeds 
and seedlings
pulled weeds
tied up plants
harvested the 
fruits 
of my labour 

these hands have
fed my family

handled knives, spoons
kneaded dough,
rolled and patted pastry
measured ingredients
filled jars
and tightened rings

these hands have
worked hard

washed dishes
and toilets,
hung clothes on lines
swept floors
scrubbed counters,
floors and walls

these hands have
brought change

knocked on doors 
dialed phones
written letters
held signs
delivered pamphlets

these hands have
carried memories

hankies tied up
with lunch money
given to me by my granny
books
pencils and paper
a viola
and a clarinet
(the last two,
were not successes)

these hands have
suffered

burns
cuts
carpel tunnel
chapped, cracked skin
aging

these hands have
communicated

beckoned
waved goodbye
acted out songs
clapped rhythms
applauded greatness
and effort

these hands have
gripped 

coffee in morning
and
celebratory
glasses of wine,
at night

these hands

1 comment:

  1. This could be a picture book, and I'm imagining all the pictures as I read, and then read again, Cheriee. The one thing that brought such a sweet memory is "hankies tied up". I had forgotten that we did that, and did it often. That is the sweetest! You might check out Amy Ludwig VanDerwater's book With My Hands: Poems About Making Things, out last year! Thank you, it's lovely!

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