Grandpa’s Hands – by TIM TIPTON

Grandpa’s Hands

 

Grandpa’s hands

were kind, old, tan from the hot sun

They told more than his face did about life

and where he had traveled in his eighty years.

His hands were masterful in finding lost gems,

making fishing lures and carving something

out of wood to last forever.

His hands always open, never closed.

I grew up wanting to have those hands

Touching earth, arranging space

I found it natural when his hand held mine.

***

me-reading

Tim Tipton was first seduced by the craft of poetry when he read the “Panther” by Rainer Marie Rilke. Tim is a graduate of California State University of Northridge where he received a Bachelor of Science in Sociology. He also received a degree in Substance Abuse counseling.

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