This is a poem I wrote for my mom for her birthday a few years ago. She keeps a copy pinned up on the bulletin board in her sewing room. Now everytime she creates one of her beautiful quilts, she sews an outline of her hand to the back. I just noticed that I have the same curve in my pinky that she does.
My Mother's Hands
When I look at my hands,
I see your hands,
My mom's hand |
I see your mother's hands.
Trim fingernails,
No polish,
White moons
Peeking out from under cuticles.
Bluish veins more visible,
Through thinning skin.
Hard working hands.
Gripping and squeezing,
Dressmaker shears.
Some days agile,
A section of the quilt my mom made for me. Aren't I lucky to have an artist for a mom! |
Some days achy.
Loving hands.
Sliding a daughter's bangs out of her eyes.
Cupping a son's chin
As he mumbles a question.
Sometimes when I look at my hands,
As I write, or turn the pages of a book,
I see your hands,
I see your mother's hands.
Beautiful poem, beautiful quilt--you and your mother are both artists, though you work with words.
ReplyDeleteI loved your poem. It made me want to compare my hands with my mother's.
ReplyDeleteSo nice to see the way you wove your memories of your mother into a poem about her hands. I like the line about cupping her son's chin.
ReplyDeleteSimply beautiful. The sentiment, the way you opened and closed, the pictures, the way it led to her iconic hand on every quilt she crafts, the soft rhythm, I could go on and on...
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful tribute to your mom.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful. You articulate your observation with love and appreciation.
ReplyDeleteTerje
What a nice poem for your mom. Isn't it funny how we start to see more of our mothers in us as we age. Yes, you are lucky to have such a talented mother.
ReplyDeleteWelcome to Poetry Month, Diana. What a lovely poem to share... 3 generations connected in hands
ReplyDeleteBonnie
Just beautiful. My favorite part is clearing the bangs from her daughter's face and cupping the chin of her son. Your poem had grace. How wonderful that your mom puts her hand on each quilt. Her hands are her legacy.
ReplyDeleteThe bangs were my favorite image, too! I loved the last part of the poem when you see her hands in yours -- really wonderful!
ReplyDeleteI like the actual picture of your mother's hands. Your words captured the personality of a special mother and painted another picture of your mother's hands.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed your poem. Made me think of my Mother's favorite poem - "In the Master's Hands" - Story of a violin up for auction until a master plays it.
ReplyDeletePowerful imagery.
Finally figured out how to get to your blog. What a blessing you are to me. From Your loving Mother.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem- it made me cry. thankyou.
ReplyDelete