Hands
Earned their keep
These hands of mine
Sunday afternoon, I went to a two hour class on keeping chickens. The class was put on by Bob Lies, who, along with his wife, has kept chickens in his St. Paul backyard for four years. The class was held at Egg Plant Urban Farm Supply, a wonderful source of everything garden and chicken, located…
I caved in and had an MRI about a week ago, which led to wearing a hinged knee brace that leaves permanent indentations in my skin, plus I’m walking around on crutches. My doctor doesn’t seem to realize that crutches are a bad idea for someone who has had shoulder injuries. More importantly, I can’t…
That crazed girl improvising her music. Her poetry, dancing upon the shore, Her soul in division from itself Climbing, falling She knew not where — “A Crazed Girl”, William Butler Yeats Soul in division from itself… I can relate. To return to sanity and wholeness I’m digging in dirt, listening to birdsong, and walking. Ahhhh,…
The Last Nice Day Or so I hear I walk off miles of anxious While geese gather Like thoughts Honking loudly Is it safe? Should we land? Is this a good spot? Do I know you? The sun rises and sets Rivers flow Dogs smile Leaves turn And then fall There are cycles There are…
I am reading The Gift of Years: Growing Older Gracefully by Joan Chittister, a book about “becoming” after retirement. Much of what I’ve read so far is about the freedom that comes from being outside the corporate world, where image matters so much. But I’m still in that world…
Finally! A nice day! Yeh! See Maery doing the happy dance! You know it’s been tough weather-wise when a bit of sun and temps in the 60s make you crazily jubilant! Lots got done today – raking, cutting down some buckthorn, gathering and burning branches, clearing flower beds of leaves and old growth, a couple…
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Fantastic! These hands have earned their keep? I love that! And your photographs are stunning – as are your hands! I often think that way about my body in general – you know, that it’s earned its keep – but specifically hands? What a lovely meditation. I loved, loved, loved this and will look at my age spotted, somewhat scarred, crepe paper textured skin hands more lovingly and appreciatively after reading this.
Your hands, poem, and photos, are beautiful. (but I do know the feeling of looking at my own hands and thinking “who’s are these?”)
Lynn