These hands

They have been the hands of a lover, a fighter

A painter, a poet

A writer, a seamstress

A nurse, a ‘doctor’

An inventor, an upcycling creator

An interior designer, a homemaker

Freedom taker, peace seeker

Editor, formatter, cover creator

These hands

Belong to a daughter, a mother, a grandmother

They click at keys and mouse strokes

Vividly painting what the mind sees

They mend the broken

Speak out for the unspoken

Fix that which needs but a stitch or two

All the while

Poetic words and images play in her head

These hands

They are scarred, they are over-used

Sometimes they hurt, sometimes they crackle

Used for all things practical

Rough then soft again

Their touch is simple, no need to be outspoken

When the language you speak is with your fingers

Clicking away

Always painting those pictures with words

Images vividly cascading themselves outward onto a screen

© Jennifer Oneal Gunn 2021

Jennifer Oneal Gunn

Author, poet, painter, mom