Some use cremes to soften
The rough edges
But hands don’t lie
From birth to death
The telling of time’s imprint
Extraordinary
With fingers like tendrils
Reaching
For tactile sensations
Through well traveled veins
Thinned skin
Sandpaper
Dirty fingernails
Hands have toiled
Earth’s promise under
A scorching sun
Lived a thousand summer
Dreams that satisfy an itch
Telling the story of where
We’ve been and how
We’ve lived
Extensions of our mind
Beyond the palm reading
A life lived
