Sustaining Grip

A vice grip clamps around my heart
Squeezing against my pulse
To catch my breath
at every
        other
    beat.
Numb, I whisper breath.

This long bony hand that holds me
Stripped of worldly rings once worn
Is younger than I remember
Yet familiar in strength and shape.

Fingers muddied building a house of sod.
Palms splintered building a house of wood.
Hands pin-pricked sewing
  A hundred quilts
A thousand lives.
Creased from battle with the mid-west sun
Determined to craft life from dust.
Cradling death.
Caressing newborns.
Lovingly feeding any hungry mouth
While straining to feed her own.

Now out of reach the hands I touched are cold
Yet I feel their strength as my own hand clutches nothing.
Steel grip pressing my heart
To fuel the passion their toil began.

© 1997 wendi loomis "Reflection in Fragments"

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