Restless Hands Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Restless hands
I look at my old hand
Blotches of liver spots, slow running blood vessels
Delivering old blood so I can fold my hands
Once they caressed a woman`s body who moaned
And my hands were firm
Women used to see me and smile now I walk
The earth unobserved and words become a long silence.
if I tell you how much I miss making love
to sit in the park with a girl of and see the moon while
smoking cigarettes, inhale its promise of love to come
the aroma of her hair the smoothness of her thighs
to kiss her libidos and drink her sweet water, her legs
Apart she has given herself to me.
Asleep enfolded we are, tomorrow is far away.
My old hands remember so much I bow my head and try
to inhale from my hands what once was
It is all so hopeless and soon I will be dead