Maery Rose

Writer

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Hands

Not so pretty
Supple and lithe
A boney bump 
And scar
Horse accidents
Gardening
Snow shoveling
Music
These hands have
Earned their keep

They love
Mugs of hot coffee
Cold bottles of beer
And digging in the dirt

Oh, the friends they’ve made!
These hands of mine
Rubber grips for opening stubborn jars
And magnetic necklace clasps
But they continue to do 
What needs to get done
And what they are best for
Doesn’t require strength
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2 Comments

« Taking a Journey
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Comments

  1. Barb says

    April 11, 2013 at 1:01 pm

    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.

    Reply
  2. Lynn Fisher says

    April 15, 2013 at 12:40 am

    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

    Reply

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Currently Reading

Maery's bookshelf

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The Business of Being a Writer
by Jane Friedman
Witches Abroad
Witches Abroad
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Hi, I’m Maery Rose, a Minnesota writer. If you are seeking straight talk about aging and other topics you’ve come to the right place. I write essays, short stories, and memoir. Read More…

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