A Palm Reading
The chimp stretches its arm,
a small hand, palm up under my chin,
fingers and thumb supple,
a pink-pawed sharing.
It’s a palmistry offering,
if only I had the skill to read it.
There is a lifeline.
It looks a lot like mine
if my hand were his.
I see a heart-line,
it seems open and flowing
as if this ape were following
another meaning of ‘heart.’
The handler moves on.
I check my own palm,
note the similarities, even see
an indistinct squeezed crease,
where the heart line bifurcates.
A sign, but of what?
And why does my hand
look like an old map of the moon,
while his looks like the hand
of a poet?
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2025
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