Old Man's Hands

Old Man's Hands

A Poem by Nolo Segundo

They were once fine,
long-fingered and
aristocratic, photographed
resting lightly on a model's
shoulder as she wore a
mink and clutched a Gucci.

In childhood they played
like all kids' hands play:
clutching, grabbing,
throwing some hapless
ball, or playing war,
waving to unseen allies
while bringing a gory
death to hordes of
relentless foes.

In manhood they sought more
to caress a woman's flesh than
play throw and catch-- so
they explored the wondrous
nooks and crannies with both
hunger and hesitancy, always
joyfully losing themselves in
her eternal unknowingness.

They were mighty then,
the hands of a young god,
giving pleasure in equal
measure to its taking.
But now their skin lies
cracked and shrieking
of seven decades-- the
fingers are bending like
old trees succumbing
finally to the brutal wind,
with knobs sprouting from
joints and a low pain
taking up a permanent
and uninvited residence.


© 2017 Nolo Segundo

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I really enjoyed your piece.

Each stanza takes us to another moment in this mans life, from childhood and innocence to adulthood and passion to a withering old man. I liked the way you personified his fingers in the last verse.

Good work!

Posted 10 Months Ago

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1 Review
Added on February 18, 2016
Last Updated on January 2, 2017


Nolo Segundo
Nolo Segundo

Philadelphia, PA

From adolescence until I was 24, I was an agnostic. Then I almost drowned, and had what has come to be called a near death experience. So for the past 45 years I've known that the problem with life i.. more..