That strong right hand that
once balanced our
young sons near the sky,
once tossed bales of
straw each August,
once pitched no-hitters
after sunday picnics,
once tenderly stroked
my once-auburn hair.
That hand
now crudely arches to grasp a
bamboo cane and
now trembles as you reverently
bow your feeble body in prayers
and give thanks for the years
of that strong right hand.
once tenderly stroked my once-auburn hair... a thanksgiving for all the strength, love and care you received from the strong right hand......... thank you very much for this poem my dear poet. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well thought out and nicely penned with insight. Thanks for sharing Martin.