Monday Poem: Her Fingers

Her Fingers

Now, look at her long thin fingers
how they curl close around your world
to take sharp hold of your life
giving it shape, form and meaning.

She takes the hand of all your mornings
and takes them on down to the river
to wash you clean of all you want to forget
and the heavy stains of too much memory.

You want to go back to those times
when she could make a world for you
just with a gesture of those hands,
her eloquent fingers creating landscapes
for you both to walk through together.