What's in My Hands (JG)

 I open my hands

And see only my hands

The lines in my palms

That some say speak of fate 

And love and misery 

And the wonder to come

Some quiet morning in December

When the cold will silence the birds

And the asking in my palms.


And I close my hands

And see only my hands

The palms lost in them

The fate and love and wonder

Lost in this quiet December morning

As I turn to watch the leaves 

Moving slowly in the wind


The birds are silent

The crows here last week are gone 

Gone to the Carolinas

Where they hope to find some sun


I sit and watch the trees

As if they were my open hands.

Comments

  1. MaryMDecember 3, 2020 at 4:00 PM

    Hands are more us than our faces, in so many ways. I love the way they open here, and close.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. John GuzlowskiDecember 4, 2020 at 12:27 PM

      Yes, I think of my hands being more in the world than my face. My face is something I seldom think of and seldom see, but my hands are always moving in the world and touching it.

      Delete
  2. UnknownDecember 4, 2020 at 4:15 AM

    Love is always arriving with empty hands.

    ReplyDelete
  3. UnknownNovember 15, 2021 at 5:57 AM

    Love is arriving and leaving with empty hands but the scars never fade.

    ReplyDelete

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