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My Mother's Hands
The aroma of smothered chicken breast
and steamed broccoli covered in gravy
Unfolds within her hands.
Their smooth lavender touch
Rescues the marching tears
That roll down the hills
Of my carmel cheeks.
When I am breaking like a bridge in an earthquake
Her hands cradle me
Like a gorilla cradling her baby.
In the twilight of the night
They run deep into my starry sheets
Tucking me in as I dream of her hands
Forming the moon and the stars.
As she folds her hands
I thank them for their gentle touch.
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