Art by Eric R. Martin.
© Please do not reproduce without artist's permission.
LEARNING FROM THE HANDS
by Emily Pohl-Weary
After Mercedes Sosa's song "Las manos de mi madre"
My mother’s hands are coarse sandpaper
that grind you down
My mother’s hands smell of baby
powder and garlic
My mother’s hands tear down walls
hold up roofs, make homes
My mother’s hands are warm summer wind
sweeping the city streets, gathering lost people
My mother’s hands comfort four children
friends, husbands, lovers, allies
My mother’s hands set me straight
when my journey forks
My mother’s hands prove she’s always right
never tremble or apologize for rage
My mother’s hands don’t compromise, pen manifestoes
sign petitions, post online
My mother’s hands will not compute
ironic humor about serious issues
My mother’s hands resolutely grip peace signs
amidst a sea of riot police
My mother’s hands slice through raw meat
boil spaghetti, pickle carrots, bake cakes
My mother’s hands begged for nothing
while she was married, all three times
My mother’s hands are never empty
now that she’s alone and works cash at a corner store
My mother’s hands shovel, stack, scrub
harder than ever
My mother’s hands will never reveal
just how tired she really is
Emily Pohl-Weary's latest book is Ghost Sick (Tightrope Books, 2015), a collection of poetry about tragedy and resilience in downtown Toronto. Her previous books include the young adult fantasy novel Not Your Ordinary Wolf Girl (Penguin Random House, 2013), along with a Hugo Award-winning biography, a ghost love story, a middle-grade mystery, a female superhero anthology, and a girl pirate comic. She was the Pierre Berton House Writer-in-Residence in Dawson City, Yukon, this past summer, and is currently working on a new teen novel. Visit her online at www.emilypohlweary.com
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