His Worn Hands Tell a Story
Hs worn hands, they tell a story --
The furrows where his trusty saw rested
The closed wounds from rusty nails
The bent fingers from flinty hammer blows
The swollen redness from carrying metal pails
Once soft and smooth, now creased and hard
His hands may well be old and worn
~ Yet his conscience remains unscarred
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment