2 February 2013
There's a handprint on my mirror.
When I breathe on it it comes to life again,
The frosted, phantasmal outline
Of a moment come and past,
A handprint of a thousand minute words
Each as meaningful and unique as the swirl of the fingertips.
A strong hand,
Robust and earthy,
Grounded though it floats along the glass,
A firm hand that should never let go
Even of what is lost.
There's a handprint on my mirror
Just a mark of what you were.
Perhaps if I breathe enough
You'll come back to reclaim it again.
Handprint • Opuss № I