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it was grandpa?s hands
that made these fields
it was grandpa?s hands
that gave us time.
hands that were massive; palms of endless
rivers with etches of nature and fingers long
like cornstalks with hitch-ball knuckles.
?like paws boy, boundless paws?
he used to cover my eyes
and claim he had the world?s light
with his hands
he used to raise me up
by the waist so I could capture the sun
with my hands,
but his chuckles no longer boom about the bins.
...it was the winter
who whisked him away
it was the cold
that ended his time...
and as another harvest breeze blows
I make a steeple with my hands,
with my hands,
and urge for the return of his light.
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You have such a knack for good sound. All of your lines flow so well. I loved the impact of the stanzas with the shorter lines. Variable lin length is a good way to draw attention to the important stuff.
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"...it was the winter
who whisked him away
it was the cold
that ended his time..."
Probably my favorite part of it.
Great writing though - although I think this part:
"hands that were massive; palms of endless
rivers with etches of nature and fingers long
like cornstalks with hitch-ball knuckles."
Could use revision. To me it's just not as tidy as the rest of the peice, and it just kinda sticks out.. but not in a way that makes you go "woa, look at that", kind of in a "that doesn't really fit the rest of the poem" kinda way...
But it was good. I'd like to see it with whatever revisions I know you're bound to do to it.
