Hands
Hands made to grasp my finger
Find your toes
Grab a toy
Hands made for peek-a-boo games
Shy high fives
Angry fists
Hands made to scrawl your first name
Clutch a pencil
Catch a ball
Thirty two weeks before anyone holds you
Your hands grow
Tiny
Fragile
Too easy to cast away
Too hard to see when the world
Threatens to forget me
To leave me in the shadows
Clutching your hand.
My hands shake but I know
Your hands will shape the world
For one person or a million,
And I will know
It was worth the shadows
To stand on that day
Grasping your hand.
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