Saturday, December 27, 2008

Hands of Time




I look at my hands these days and they remind me of my mother. Where in the world did these wrinkles come from? What have I done?


I tend them properly, lotions and creams. I polish my nails with a block made of silicone and diamonds. Yet...


when I open my hands why do the remind me of my mothers?


I wonder......

4 comments:

Eric Valentine said...

many are those who tread the paths they are familier with, hence mom's hands? :)

Karen said...

This sounds like the kernel for a poem to me... :)

Karen said...

Roberta -- this picture and the thoughts about mothers' hands has caused me to think about my mother's hands, and I think, inspired my next poem! Thanks.

Karen said...

Your post has inspired me to work on a poem about my mother's hands. Not the same idea at all, but you "got me thinking" as we say!