Her father's hands extend beyond the land.
Her hands are sealed like the mouth of his vault.
Trembling with every grasp, his wrinkled hands
will never find their youth.
Better a handshake than the clutch of ice,
the difference, she will never know.
Her hands are frozen in her pockets.
7/2/2021
© 2021
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poem with true feelings.