A HAND

by James Penha
Not so solitary
says

suddenly to some
a ring
on the right

hand
(some
who worship symbols,
not norms)

so
quietly too

(some who
take time
for what it is--
matters and waves;

once my hand held spit,
slapped,
and rubbed mates
eagerly to make a world.

We won
and lost
and won and lost
and now blue

undulations
on the rise
have crested,

but even so
slowly and shaking,
crooked and aching,
I need
to give a hand.


This poem has been posted in response to the Bloggers Unite challenge to bloggers everywhere to report on Acts of Kindness on December 17.

James Penha edits The New Verse News. His new book of poems, No Bones to Carry, is available from New Sins Press.