HERITAGE HANDS

A mother's hands lemon
wood, metal, clay, fibre -
abrase, scour, polish,
stitch fallen cuff,
press around pearl buttons,
fasten heart locket clasp,
Vermillion red maples onto canvas,
clip and store family snippets.

A mother's fingers kung fu-train pooch,
Whip cookie batter into shape,
Tie CARE packages in knots,
Snap mats against brick wall.
In rapid-fire succession, rounded fist
scoops up creamy mashed potatoes,
crumbles bacon into bits,
subdues sucking, metal monster
(dragging it from the room),
then, tiring of victory, chops onions.

A mother' hands hoist cast iron
Fry pan onto stovetop,
10-pound carrots into pantry,
20-pound ironing into closet,
30-pound wet laundry into dryer,
40-pound preschooler into carseat,
arm-wrestle teen-age kids and
flip mattresses.

A mother's knobby willow fingers
curve around lunchpail handle,
skim typewriter/computer keyboard,
reach for legato rolling 10ths and
score points on the tennis court.
Useful...all together lovely!
Why, I would venture to say
They're a work of art.
With a sure and steady grip,
Around the world and back again,
They guided me on maiden trip.

A puzzle remains:
When did HER hands on the wheel
Change into MINE along the way?

Dorothy McPherson