Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Handshake

The hand that grips and strains to hold
In struggle another's palm
Seizing, wresting
As if concord could be won
By a ten-second rule
Pins nothing down
But a bowstrung jaw
And shoulders stripped
Of their grooves
By powertools.

But...

From fluid fingers freely flows
Friendship fast and far
As the rivulet runs down
Easy mountain sides
Sighing,
So too does the sensitive shake
Spread sweet nurture
Through each nook and cranny
Of thy neighbor's reach.