Hands
Earned their keep
These hands of mine
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…
My little stress relieving ditty, which should be sung to the melody of “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad”. Working Girl Anthem I’ve been banging on the keyboard All the live long day I’ve been banging on the keyboard Just so for shelter and food I can pay Can’t you hear the horns a honking…
“Forgive the dead year. Forgive yourself. What will be wants To push through your fingers.” ~ Marge Piercy, “The head of the year” Forgive yourself… Isn’t [s]he the hardest person to forgive of all? I’m still waiting for her to make amends The future is not ours to see or to make or to bend…
A solid rain storm started last evening and ran through much of today. So what else can a girl do but go to the Horse Expo and look at all the bling. There was more bling than practical stuff. I found a Troxel helmet I’ve been looking for, to replace my old horse-chewed up helmet,…
You follow people’s lives in their blogs and you rejoice over the good times, but you hate seeing people go through the bad times. I suggest you read this post by Amy at the DVM’s Wife and KB’s post in Romping and Rolling in the Rockies and see if it doesn’t make you think about…
About my experience taking the storytelling workshop “Finding Your Voice: Stories & Song” with Kevin Kling and Simone Perrin at Gunflint Lodge.
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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