PSALTERY
Your hands can smile
With touch
Your pink nails laugh
With their half-moons shining
Smelling of things grasped
And let go: deliveries
And departures
Day after day
Hands are your navigators
Across smoke rainclouds
Starlight leaves ice
Over and over
They tell the story of your life
The left one
The hand God gave you
The right
The hand you make
They are a library
Clapping time
For the rest of your life
.
5 comments:
great to hear from you! when i click on your name it takes me to your dashboard, too. i'll alert deb, or maybe polkadot witch because i am pretty clueless about the inner workings of blogs. i can barely manage my blogger blog!
re: your poem...very nice! My favorite lines: "Your pink nails laugh
With their half-moons shining"
Thanks for visiting my blog, and for all your nice comments. I've read your poems here and there. I've seen your name out there for sure, hard to forget!
I'm lefthanded. Does that mean God gave me the right one? No pun intended. :)
I like the last 3 verses-they remind me of hands as an open book, because of library, where we can read the signs of our lives. My hands look old. I'm 47, but I think my hands look older than that. Maybe I need to smile more with their touch.
Very nice poem that merits several readings.
papek--as far as where people go when they click your name, i think it has to do with the information you type in when asked re: leaving comment. for example, when i leave a comment at RWP, it asks me my name, email address and website address.
the links we leave to our individual poems are different.
email me and i can try to help: art [at] polkadotwitch [dot] com
thanks!
Joyce, what a delectible poem.
Thank you all. Christine, I had a friend who used to read palms. She always said that the left palm is the hand God gave you, and the right, you make. Something about free will I suppose.
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