October 2021 Flash Lit 5: Many Hands

Many Hands (For T.)

 

I used to put a hand

on the place you kicked

from the inside—to welcome

you and maybe soothe you,

but the first hands to hold you

were the doctor’s,

the one from the hall, because

you came so suddenly.

I never knew her name.

Then nurses and then, at last,

mine.

Not really last—

Between that slippery baby

and the fine young man,

there have been many hands.

Some, raised with urgent

answers, some reaching

to pull you up, some

waggling an admonitory finger,

probably even some fists.

Now it is in your hands—

the future, the work of it—

May they be deft

and defiant

and determined.