hands

In art, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing on 30 March 2007 at 7:59 am

Hand of love
hand of pain

Who have yours
touched
and how

What’s on them?

Dirt, grime, blood,
the scent of soap

What do they tell
others

Do we know
the truths that
lie in our hands

(D.James)

Enter your comment here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Email (required) (Not published)

Name (required)

Website

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

poems written on the fly