My Father’s Hands

© Bonnie Staiger, Published:  Parkinson Foundation Report, Summer 2003  

Strong and rough
Fixing cars
Planting trees
Building a cabin

“Hold my hand, Daddy
The curb is high
And I’m afraid of falling.”

Printer’s ink
Under his nails
Never quite clean . . .
No matter the occasion

“Hold my hand, Dad
The world is rough
And I’m afraid of falling.”

Kind and gentle
Showing the way
Caressing my cheek . . .
Never mind his calluses and nicks

“Hold my hand, Bonnie Rae
Getting old is tough
And I’m afraid of falling.”

Shaking and palsied
Wet from drops of drool
Showing the signs of
A lifetime of work . . . now resting

“Hold his hand, God
The way is smooth at last
And no more falling.”

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About Bonnie Larson Staiger

I'm a poet. Writing is an extension of who I am. On my blog, North Dakota Roots, I share some poetry and some observations about life.
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4 Responses to My Father’s Hands

  1. Linda Harsche says:

    Bonnie, your poem brought tears to my eyes. Lovely!

  2. tekia says:

    Hi! Came across this after clicking around. What a wonderful poem! I love the transition from the daughter needing her hand held to the father needing his hand held until the end. Love the last stanza as well. This is indeed a lovely piece 🙂

  3. slpmartin says:

    It does have a wonderful transition and a wondeful message…thanks for posting it.

  4. Tena says:

    This brings tears to my eyes and brings back wonderful memories of Grampy. Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem.

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