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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HANDS, by PEARL HOGREFE First Line: Not in her hasty blood, which beats its drum Last Line: They feel their future: silence, earth their cover. Subject(s): Aging; Hands | |||
Not in her hasty blood, which beats its drum Of wild unreason still, with savage rage For swift escape -- not in its angry thrum, Its throbbing steady cry -- does she know age. But age, beginning craft, has seized her hands. Awake in spring, they still tend plants in soil With tang of mellow humus; but knowing bands Of pain, too wrinkled, stiff, recall their toil. They have forgotten youth and the touch of lover. They feel their future: Silence, earth their cover. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY FATHER, MY HANDS by RICHARD BLANCO MY MOTHER'S HANDS by ANDREW HUDGINS I WAS BORN WITH TWELVE FINGERS by LUCILLE CLIFTON TEN OXHERDING PICTURES: A MEDITATION by LUCILLE CLIFTON FIFTH GRADE AUTOBIOGRAPHY by RITA DOVE THE TYPICAL HAND by ELENI SIKELIANOS THE CARPENTER by PRIMUS ST. JOHN |
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