hands
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Hands, Revisited
My thanks to Jeff Cann, whose Windows to My Soul inspired me to keep thinking aobut hands. ….. When I was a child, my father taught me that the height of a horse is measured in hands. He demonstrated on his own horse, Azure, placing his hand sidelong up the length from the hoof to Continue reading
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Hands
Daddy’s were beautiful. At the table, holding a piece of buttered bread. Cutting meat, lifting his glass to his lips, water droplets on its surface wetting his fingertips. When he looked behind him before backing up the car, he reached his right hand over the front seat. From the backseat, I stared at it. Continue reading
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