My Hands are like Bull Calves
My hands are like bull calves
strong, unwieldy, small.
they charge towards
situations with a
wobbly bruteness.
My hands are like bull calves
that yearn to be tendered-
to tender and gentle
but the only softness they have a wavering hold on
is from repeated moisturizing.
My hands
small and mighty
are also hard
they have broken
coffee mug handles,
toilet handles,
an aged pane of thinning glass…
with clumsy, unbridled
awkwardness.
sometimes,
I wish their biggest strength
was learning how to mete
the boundless love
that pours out of them.
My hands are like bull calves
wild, full of untapped energy
looking for an outlet
to let go.
