Hands of a Man

My father always judged a man by how firm a handshake he had

What was the grip like?

Were the palms calloused and tough?

My father's were.

 

His hands had created gardens that feed all of us for years

His hands had made decks and porches and came home cut

From his papermill job for over twenty-five years

His hands rarely spanked us kids but when they did.....

 

When his hands touched those of my husband's

He frowned

A Chicago boy with soft hands...

They weren't soft, Dad's were too hard to feel anymore

 

Now my dad and my husband work side by side and I hold my two favorite men's hands

Both raveaged by the Louisiana weather

Both wonderful strong hands that were united by one little girl

Their hands would have never met had it not been for me

 

My daughter's hands
With her chubby grasp she clenches the hearts
of all who love her.
Not wanting to let go of my apron strings
her soft hands merge with the
calloused hands of men.

 

In her light, those men both think that

Soft hands are nothing to frown about anymore...

$ 

 

Author's Note

Thanks for the idea to rearrange my words at the end

Reviews

[Lady V]

I know one thing........... There is nothing like the touch of a child. Their hugs bring joy and they look up to us when they hold our hand. I was never close with my father but my mother instilled the same image in me. That you work to support more than you do to survive. i love this poem.

Live, Love and Learn

Lady V

[Mark D. Chevalier]

I was always taught that a handshake should be firm, but not overly agressive amongst men as you look them in the eyes. I can't say that I've ever judged someone by a handshake, but I understand its psychological importance in our society.

I think what is more important is the way you captured the essence of the gesture, and how it ties in to the bonds that are formed between family, and even how the attitudes can change over time, even when a first impression isn't the best one could hope for. And still more, the emotions that can be displayed and how close it can a child feel to the adults around them. I still remember my grandfather holding mine, and I never felt as protected or loved as those moments as a child, looking into his grey eyes and seeing him smile down at me.

Wonderful piece!
Mark

[Nancy Lee Shrader]

Very well done Laura. I also look at a person's hands before I look them square in the face. The hands to me are a window into the soul. When I post my poem Hands I hope you will read and review it.


Hands, now I hold my baby's hands and her chubby grasp

Clenchs my heart and

Her hands won't let go of my apron strings

But most of all her soft hands are in those men's rough hands



This piece is a glowing tribute to your father and this section shows how live comes full circle.

[Rachel DeHart]

I really enjoyed the imagery in this. It is very powerful.
I love this stanza
"When his hands touched those of my husband's
He frowned
A Chicago boy with soft hands...
They weren't soft, Dad's was too hard to feel anymore"

Thank you so much for sharing this.