For My Mother 1902 - 1999

My Mother’s Hands

I saw them again tonight--my mother’s hands.
I have never thought that they were very pretty.
Not particularly ugly--just not pretty.
Projections at the end of her arms,
Stubby fingers, arthritic knots on the joints,
Big dark veins surrounded by loose skin
Darkened and spotted by the sun.

For some reason, I have always shrunk
From the touch of my Mother’s hands.
But, tonight when I saw her hands,
Stubby fingers, knotty joints,
Loose skin overlapping the big blue veins
Running through the sun spots,
Projections at the end of my own arms,
I missed her terribly.

And I let her touch my soul,
And it was beautiful.

© 2002 Ilene Madrigal
All Rights Reserved