Dad’s Hands
In the cafe booth his son asks,
Dad, what do you see
when you look at your hands?
Palms up, palms down, open, closed,
bent, scraped, swollen and raw. Dad
answers, These hands are not mine.
He looks across the table
at this young man’s hands,
smooth, strong, flexible, straight.
You have my hands, Son.
These hands that I have on
once belonged to my father.
Someday, way too soon, you’ll see
that your son will have your hands,
and you, Son, will have mine.
Carl "Papa" Palmer, retired Army, retired FAA, now just plain retired, lives in University Place, Washington. He has seven chapbooks and a contest winning poem riding buses somewhere in Seattle. Carl has been nominated for the Micro Award and Pushcart Prize.
MOTTO: Long Weekends Forever
www.authorsden.com/carlpalmer
In the cafe booth his son asks,
Dad, what do you see
when you look at your hands?
Palms up, palms down, open, closed,
bent, scraped, swollen and raw. Dad
answers, These hands are not mine.
He looks across the table
at this young man’s hands,
smooth, strong, flexible, straight.
You have my hands, Son.
These hands that I have on
once belonged to my father.
Someday, way too soon, you’ll see
that your son will have your hands,
and you, Son, will have mine.
Carl "Papa" Palmer, retired Army, retired FAA, now just plain retired, lives in University Place, Washington. He has seven chapbooks and a contest winning poem riding buses somewhere in Seattle. Carl has been nominated for the Micro Award and Pushcart Prize.
MOTTO: Long Weekends Forever
www.authorsden.com/carlpalmer
Thank you, Karen, for reminding me of this memory.
ReplyDeleteMy brother, Matt and his son inspired this poem as we sat at the breakfast table before they would begin another day of roofing.
They were and still are hard working outdoor men like our father was.
My son, an Air Force officer has hands more like mine.
Thanks again for the honor of this Archive Selection, Karen.
You are special.
Merry Christmas,
Carl
Thanks dad :)
ReplyDeleteProves again that a few words are as powerful and searchers our souls as a long play .
ReplyDeleteDear Carl,
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading your poem, your description is very vivid.
This poem deserves it to be published again.
Best wishes,
Inge
I really liked your poem!
ReplyDeleteCaryl
so thought provoking. loved reading it again
ReplyDeleteThanks, Carl, this is an artful celebration of love and the generations that sustain it
ReplyDelete