Love Song for the Woman with Beautiful Hands
I
each day I wait for your signs
in the morning when you awake
at night I count every finger of your hands
your hands of bones and summer blood
your hands which you say have forgotten how to dream
as if winter could ever wean its desires of spring
or birds in the morning tell lies
and refuse to sing
II
in late afternoon we were walking on the shore
several dozen feet above the waves a congregation of birds
seagulls, herons, pelicans
hungry searching for a meal
then in the next breath
dove a pelican
like a fleshy arrow into the sea
plucked a fish and went off
III
I looked for you
on the beach
I wanted to lie down
next to you
on the cool sand
I wanted to show you why it’s important
to recognize the shape of your hand
the look of your hand
the special way to touch the lines
of your palm
the roads and paths
marks of eternity
I wanted to tell you about the pelican
how quickly it reached a decision
how it knew what to do
how to live and not die
but your hands which you say have forgotten
how to dream
your hands
which I look for
each day
| Kosrof Chantikian |
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