Fingering
​Fingers on keyboards
typing away,
Fingers to lips,
nothing to say.

Fingers on skin
rubbing the hurt,
Fingers on fabric
smoothing the skirt.

Fingers on spoon handle,
stirring the food,
Fingers go wander
isn’t it rude?

To have fingers in pots
that are not their own
stirring and stirring
down to the bone?

Fingers to point
and fingers to shake,
Fingers to mend
and fingers to make,

Fingers to tap out
a small lively tune,
Fingers to wave
a greeting so soon.

                               ©2016 Annette Meserve




                          



February 1, 2017  in Trinidad, CO

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An evening of Myth and Poetry

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