Saturday, January 31, 2009

Golden Anniversary

Another brief break in the Bagman Butler brawl – but I’ve had several reminders recently about aging and mothers -- so I apologize for yet another delay in finding out if Bagman gets naked. Instead, today’s offering is a poem.

Golden Anniversary

Please, hand, before I forget again,

tell me of this gentleman

whose arm you rest upon,

with such familiarity.

I try to trust you, hand, despite the way

you've grown transparent, disrobing your blue

arrangement of floral veins

over this tortured bed of knuckles.

Your fingertips still send such delicate songs

of warmth and firmness in his wrist.

How did you know it would feel this way,

reaching out with palsied touch,

that it would not pull away like others in this home?

How well your often clumsy grip

fits his forearm like a well worn nightgown

in calm and constant support.

I think, dear hand, that whoever

had this man for a husband

must have been a very lucky woman.

Cowell, 2005


  1. Am not usually a fan of poetry. But this one certainly touched me. Great thought, well written.

  2. I love these bits: "...floral veins over this tortured bed of knuckles" and "fits his forearm like a well worn nightgown". Beautiful imagery. Absolutely lovely.

  3. A very tender and moving poem, B&B. I really enjoyed it.

    It made delaying the cliff hanger worth the wait.

  4. My dad has been hospitalized twice this month. He's never been a very healthy guy. I only hope that he and my mom get to share their 50th in September.

    Pretty neat poem.