Andrew John Poet Free verse

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Finger

Finger, like so many, aims at me
and then at something else.
Finger is a small yet significant creature.
Finger's addressing me by pointing,
pointing to me, saying,
saying without speaking.

Finger sports a nail that may hold the significance
of that creature, that digit: brown-ended with soil
or brightened with soap on a bright-cleaning brush.
One or the other (as they say).

Finger will point up or down or way across
at me, at you, at her, at him, at it.
Finger may dip its eager end into cream or candy
and move swiftly to eager lips,
be licked, sucked on, causing eyes to brighten and smile.

Finger may point a mile
up the lane or down the road,
up to heaven or down to hell.
Ah, finger, you can be friend or foe (as they say),
or something between those two
with or without significance of expression.


(May 2022)

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Brian Sambourne May 31, 2022 at 6:18 AM A most interesting take on one's finger. We seldom think about the significance of such a simple gesture as pointing but it can mean much as your lines illuminate. Best wishes, Brian