Something to Hold Onto
It’s such a simple thing,
the touching of hands:
the trust
between a child and adult,
the tickle-thrill of lovers’
fingers speaking
in Braille,
the enormity of a slap.
Hands are mouths
and tools
and birds.
When my husband
lays his hand
palm up
on the elbow rest
between our two seats
as we’re on our way
to camp in our school-bus
yellow 1979 Ford Ranchero,
I rest my hand there,
softly, gently,
and the sun
comes out between us.
12 comments:
I can feel that warmth of love flowing between the two of you..
That is SO nice. Filled with love.
i feel familiarity,, more so than love here... but still,, it is touching in its genuine intimacy...
I think this is when infatuation is fading, and real love arises.
Great visual of the comfort and simplicity of love.
this is a perfect example of that secret language within a marriage - such a nice presentation!!!
This expresses so well the kind of love my husband I have shared for 67 years. And it still happens - hand to hand and heart to heart. Thank you for this lovely post.
A wonderful depiction of a strong and true love.
A beautiful expression of the way simple gestures can be the most meaningful.
Lovely - as always.
I love the little gestures too. Beautifully expressed, as always.
Oh, Linda, that's achingly beautiful.
Well written article.
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