hand of Adamah

I see a hand
reaching for mine
for the first time.
These palms
should have met
(December 10th 1991).
Mine, barely
wrapping around your thumb.


Mine, have grown
to hold mercy
yours, wilt in shame


* * *


Remorse full palms –
wintered branches
in the back of his hands
valleys carved
across knuckles
which never clenched ours
in their deepening


two vessels which shook,
now resonate

Tell us

you thought of us –
held fists to time –
open palms to sky –


cut valleys through your being
searching for offspring
Only your palms could define







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