Holding a Hand

the touch of someones hand
we can feel so much

our hands do so many mundane things

turn a screw, shove, push, twist turn

the metal in a nut or washer
you can feel the flakes
you know its not new

grains of dirt

grains of sand,

so many small things
we can feel so many things
without ever knowing we feel

and then

it happens

thousands of points touch thousands more

our fingers are so taken for granted.

they grab and turn and twist and do stuff

every day all day

and once in a while
they touch the divine


another hand, more fingers entwining


they coil like snakes seeking
they each tighten and release search and find
there is home here there is peace and love and excitement and comfort and


god how i miss holding a hand

About Scott

I am an older geek who has a deep, abiding fascination for all things shiny and new, but also a deep, abiding respect for all things shiny and old. Or just old. And not always shiny.

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