[Shutdown Frames]
Touch
This is the hand
shot through in a hunting accident
at age fifteen, four years
before understanding of death
by gunfire.
No pain, only wonder at
raw muscles, tendons, bone,
exposed in the hand that would
later be raised for the oath
that would deliver him to
a place of greater understanding.
This is the hand
which years later would provide
safe grip for his young daughter
walking beside daddy
her first unsteady steps,
the hand that which gently cupped
his wife's breast,
the hand which wrote
a poem.
© William Davis 1996
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