winter light—
she holds the teacup
with both hands

arguing—
a deaf man grabs
the other's hands

rodeo cowboy
hopefully clutching
a handful of sky

meeting her boyfriend
        our handshake
                 out of synch

pushing her nose
under my hand for a pat  —
spring morning

his hand on her thigh
                 one cloud slips
into another

estate auction —
can’t get my hand back out
of the cookie jar

a salamander
passing the coolness
hand to hand

still warm
the old dog’s chain collar
heavy in my hand

First day of school:
as we near the bus stop
his hand lets go

Amputee vet ...
gone are the hands she loved
to have touch her

my nephew's fastball —
I hand back his glove
and keep the sting

his hand
on my thigh —
I miss the next joke

professional conference —
in the restroom all the dentists
washing their hands

teenager’s wedding
in her hand, fresh flowers
cut short

the cell phone —
a neighbor pulls up weeds
with one hand

museum guard's white-gloved hand feels for the bomb in my purse

hand to hand —
the unframed photos
of her life

the newborn yawns –
her hands don’t go
far

test results
a fly keeps returning
to the doctor’s hand

a bird in hand
mine
the only pulse

dusklit war memorial —
the stone beneath my hand
     still warm

cottonfield whiter
than the thick mist
his black hands

hot afternoon
the squeak of my hands
on my daughter’s coffin

detour
she returns my hand
to the wheel

first steps
he lets go of one hand
for another

juggler
the children's eyes
in his hands

shiver at the touch
of a warm hand
... the diagnosis

pulling the covers
     off your shoulders —
         my hand passing into moonlight

spring breeze —
the pull of her hand
as we near the pet store

bridge construction
a wrench is handed
across the span