Prestidigitator
Healthy fingers
kept hurt away; sturdy
nails covered by flaking
pearlized polish tickled
while soothing childhood
fears. Fingers
swollen by persistent
arthritis continued
protection from harm.
Unadorned nails, though
brittle, smoothed my
adult frowning forehead.
Lean with waste of
terminal illness, those
fingers had the slender
feel of a young woman.
I circled them.
Daughter's
digits have no magic;
her breathing disappeared.
Lois Greene Stone, writer and poet, has been syndicated worldwide. Poetry and personal essays have been included in hard & soft cover book anthologies. Collections of her personal items/ photos/ memorabilia are in major museums including twelve different divisions of The Smithsonian.
What a powerful poem you have written here. I really enjoyed reading this awesome write this evening(early morning). You have enlightened me by the dimension of this wonderful piece, great work,
ReplyDeleteRussell
Lois, you offer poignant elements of creativity here, and stirring images...."her breathing disappeared" brings painful and loving memories to mind
ReplyDeleteWonderfu piece Lois, as always, I enjoy your work.
ReplyDeleteLois,
ReplyDeleteVery touching and moving. An excellent poem.
Your friend,
David Fox