I love your hands: They are big hands, firm hands, gentle hands; Hair grows on the back near the wrist .... I have seen the nails broken and stained From hard work. And yet, when you touch me, I grow small ...... and quiet ...... ............. And happy ......... If I might only grow small enough To curl up into the hollow of your palm, Your left palm, Curl up, lie close and cling, So that I might know myself always there, ............. Even if you forgot. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIGHT TO GRIEF by CARL SANDBURG DRIFTERS: BELLA COOLA TO WILLIAMS LAKE by KAREN SWENSON THE ANGLER'S SONG by WILLIAM BASSE THE FAIREST THING IN MORTAL EYES by CHARLES D'ORLEANS THE BOATMAN OF KINSALE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS COMMEMORATIVE OF A NAVAL VICTORY by HERMAN MELVILLE CHRISTMAS DAY IN THE WORKHOUSE by GEORGE ROBERT SIMS |