Knuckles knock

Knuckles knock
the door
One hand holds
a laptop—
The other
reaches out

Metacarpals
meet
Metacarpals

Is your
greeting-cushion
soft or stiff?
Do you fall
like a leaf? Or
tackle doubt?
Am I the
catcher’s mitt
or the obtuse ball—
Do your
stubs hug?
Or do your
tendrils worm?

A single
palmar crease
is often shy
and squirms
Widowed-digits
too— are very slow
to unfold
Splinted members
are held close—
like a
broken reed
to God
A finger flawed
is the only
friend I know

Yet I get nervous
when I notice
a drop of wrist
or certain claws
Onion
bulbs or clubs
also get me airy
I am wary even of
a painted
nail— it can mask—
a sorry rash—
a splinter
from the heart—
or evidential
scatter

But I am one
well-read—
If I see a canker
I'll cut it
off your clapper—
A ring drowning
in it’s bed—
a pill will easily
de-anchor
I even intervene
for a palm too
drunk and red
A sick hand's
prayer answered is
a scientific head

Some hands
are stale and brittle
with spots like
mold on bread—
vintage joints are little
hourglasses—
a symptom of time
long-fled
Grandma-grips
are slow—
Gray grasps are
ones I dread—
for latency is costly
and wrinkles
our ahead

Toast my palm
with psalm
and part a holy kiss
Regardless of complaint
I proceed to 
wash my fists
  1. Single palmar crease
  2. Isaiah 42:3
  3. Radial nerve
  4. Ulnar nerve
  5. Hippocratic fingers
  6. Psoriasis
  7. Endocarditis
  8. Lasix lasts 6 hours
  9. AA
  10. Romans 16:16
HD

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