Friday, June 20, 2008

Happy Ending for Sunday Scribblings

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:

gautami tripathy said...

I can feel that warmth of love flowing between the two of you..

Anonymous said...

That is SO nice. Filled with love.

paisley said...

i feel familiarity,, more so than love here... but still,, it is touching in its genuine intimacy...

anthonynorth said...

I think this is when infatuation is fading, and real love arises.

Anonymous said...

Great visual of the comfort and simplicity of love.

danni said...

this is a perfect example of that secret language within a marriage - such a nice presentation!!!

Granny Smith said...

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.

Robin said...

A wonderful depiction of a strong and true love.

Becca said...

A beautiful expression of the way simple gestures can be the most meaningful.

Lovely - as always.

Tammy Brierly said...

I love the little gestures too. Beautifully expressed, as always.

Susan Helene Gottfried said...

Oh, Linda, that's achingly beautiful.

Anonymous said...

Well written article.

Linda's Poems