Hands

 

One cannot force the hand of fate

You are a child at the playground’s locked gate

She is the Italian train, forever late

Or the distracted friend on a coffee date

“sorry there in ten”

Sit tight and wait

 

One cannot slow the hands of time

Her heavy fruit falls from the vine

Another birthday, spill some wine

A final, exquisite aria line

audience encore

how sublime!

3 thoughts on “Hands”

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