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These Hands

These hands with veins like aged snakes and wrinkles gray are getting old But once these hands were small and smooth and held a father’s hand. These hands have blocked the blows of man and faith that tried to confine. But the vastness in these hands cannot be caged. These hands have let go untilContinue reading “These Hands”

My Proper Raincoat

My raincoat makes a swishing sound when sliding it over my arms and onto my shoulders. Each time I put it on some part of me whispers, “Thank you.” I have lived in rainy Washington over thirty years and this is my first proper raincoat. I’ve had second hand, make-do coats faded in color. I’veContinue reading “My Proper Raincoat”