The Reach

“MY HANDS” photo credit- Gay Block




What will it be like when I can’t hold you?
A wine glass with leggy and dusky red smoothness
Or, God forbid- my beloved furry and wriggling dog..
Your hand, present and enveloping
My thinning and newly boney artists’ hand?
What if I can’t feel you?

What if I become afraid
And I don’t let YOU feel ME?
That self-imposed aloneness
Coming as the psyche winds down..
Too tired to weave any more threads
Into lush patterns
Hypnotic in their aliveness.

These damp thoughts
Come after sleep too deep
To easily wake from.
I was fathoms down
And the post-rain air
Was the cord I followed up and up-
Back here to You and you.

Life and Death are held
Within the minute shift
From one point-of-view to another.
I am lucky my previously supple hand
Naturally reaches toward
Wriggling dogs and fine wine.
I will lean into you, Life.
Please take my hand
If you don’t mind the stretch.


– CA


2 Responses to “The Reach”

  1. willow1945 on July 12th, 2014

    This is beautiful, moving, poignant….

  2. Michele Patrnaude on July 12th, 2014

    Wow. You got me.

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