I hold your hand
like a leaf
in my palm,
tracing
the ancient
fretwork
of arteries and veins,
tracing the lines
back
to when your life
was simple
and smooth.
Now,
with one clenched fist
you’d turn to dust.
March 2018
By Kim Waters
I hold your hand
like a leaf
in my palm,
tracing
the ancient
fretwork
of arteries and veins,
tracing the lines
back
to when your life
was simple
and smooth.
Now,
with one clenched fist
you’d turn to dust.