Wednesday, January 7, 2015

My hands

My fingers are swollen
My wrists are swollen
And so are my hands
I find it difficult to hold a plate in my hand

Opening bottles are job that
I have to ask for help
And sometimes even for getting dressed.

Are these hands really mine?
Are these the ones that cooked and cleaned,
washed and ironed clothes without a stop?
Are these the ones that reared two children,
and held their hands when they needed support?

Are these the ones that marked papers,
and wrote on the white board?
Are these the ones that drew pictures, painted, quilled
and made flowers of pista shells?

For 50 long years they worked
and now need a break, rest and some care

As long as the person has grit and determination,
this is only a pause, a time for reflection,
a time to be grateful,
for all one has received in abundance

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