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Hands That Tell Stories
I sat beside her watching her sleep, holding her hands in mine. Despite their age, her hands were beautiful, deft and wise: warm, strong, and steady hands for stirring vats of jam, for pouring milk into a cereal bowl, hands for putting on Band-Aids and braiding my hair. These were Mother’s hands.
I sat beside her watching her sleep, holding her hands in mine. Despite their age, her hands were graceful, soft, slender, elegant, and scrupulously groomed: delicate hands for hand modeling, for designing and transforming fabric into fashionable clothes, hands for putting on airs and styling my hair. These were Grammy’s hands.
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hands--expressive things
with personalities as
intimate as faces
lines etched upon skin
map of a life fully lived
hands that tell stories
Copyright ©
Sara Etgen-Baker
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