My Father's Hands <br /> <br /> <br />As I look upon my father's hands <br /> <br />now a spotted, wrinkled road map, <br /> <br />that time, sun and sweat, <br /> <br />have hardened them to a painted tortoise shell. <br /> <br />Those, the same hands that I once feared, <br /> <br />and yet at the same time so gentle <br /> <br />that they held my tiny hand deep within. <br /> <br />I feared nothing as if he was the grace of God. <br /> <br />Will they still remember me? <br /> <br />My Father's hands. <br /> <br /> <br />9 April 2008<br /><br />JoJo Bean<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-father-s-hands-2/
