Thursday, May 18, 2017

A handle on things


Of course her hands would eventually
Change, I accept the adaptation
And know I must let go of the little one.

Trading the paper and the pencil, manual
We labor, we trade and I watch
The same ring on me, though this one
Is rose gold-
And I cannot demagnetize my eyes or
tear them away from her new woman hands.

It is
The way she holds the pencil
The way she hovers over the white page
The way she hopes it will be good
I am confident

She is in good hands. 


Painting by Marie Bashkirtseff (1881) in [Public domain, Public domain or CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Tres (trace)

Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...