March 24, 2017
Photo by Chris Hottle
A New Poem by Hilde Oleson
These hands that used to be so strong.
They lifted babies easily,
They dug in garden soil, planted seeds.
They learned to do the fanciest embroidery stitch,
And how to pummel dough until it yielded into fancy bread.
These hands soothed feverish brows,
Wiped little infant bums, scrubbed burnt on pans as well.
But now they linger on the side of chairs,
Rest feverishly on canes and walkers.
Yet they know how to reach for your hand too,
How to let love flow from fingertips to you.
Sometimes the lips refuse to phrase the words,
Sometimes the heart is hesitant,
But yet the hand reaches out
To thrive on love’s sure touch.