HANDS By: greyblob

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The soft little fist grabs hold of mother’s finger

The clumsy fingers doodle in pink crayon

Defter, they furiously type an English paper

Now manicured, they cup the face of a lover

Shaking, they hold father’s hand down the aisle

And then, cradle a newborn babe

Wrinkled, they grab and embrace the son off to college

And finally, when gnarled and spotted

They clutch the chest

With the last intake of breath