Wednesday, July 18, 2012

I'm so nearsighted that when I take off my glasses I can't see anything.
I can't make out the facial features of those around me, can't see pictures on the wall.

The whole world is out of focus and frankly, it I feel adrift and a bit lost. 

I can see my hands if I hold them very close to my face, though.

When my glasses are off, I stare at my hands. It's strangely comforting.

The other evening I had taken off my glasses while sitting at the table talking with my daughter.

My daughter brought this weird hand staring thing to my attention, like a 13 year old daughter would.


thick knuckled
from scrubbing
and sweeping
and lifting
and digging

bathed babies,
wiped bottoms,
wiped noses,
smoothed the damp hair of a fevered son and daughter,

reached down into
dark places
dirty toilets
clogged drains

are scarred
and marked

wedding ring slipped on my finger
when I was a different person
with different hands
holds my left ring finger like a belt cinched too tight.

Clenched to fists,
have pounded tables,
punched at doors,

have held water
have caressed the beloved curve of a beloved face

Fingers outstretched
reach toward
another hand
a small hand
a cool hand
to hold
to twine fingers
for a moment
before pulling away