Sunday, January 20, 2013

Fingerplay (Poem)

Fingerplay

We work our fingers by remote
control, leaving the thumb

free — to press or not.

The moment connection seems lost,
nine muscles controlled by three nerves

make a sure but natural motion to oppose.
We grasp and hold, to feel

just one tiny pulse on its own.

© 2013 Maureen E. Doallas
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This poem responds to today's photo prompt of a hand in a hand at Tess Kincaid's Magpie Tales. Go here to read others' responses to the prompt or to leave a link to your own contribution of poetry or flash fiction.

12 comments:

izzy said...

Do love the pulse! - thanks.

nance said...


as long as you don't hold a grudge...

S. Etole said...

such an endearing photo ...

Karen S. said...

Or keep the remote control to yourself! Ha ha! I liked this!

Berowne said...

Creatively bright and perceptive...

SueAnn Lommler said...

I can picture someone struggling with an online game with this one.
Ha
Hugs
SueAnn

Sienna said...

we work our fingers by remote control....love that feeling

Sue said...

I like the image of leaving the thumb free...to press or not.

Nice.

=)

Tess Kincaid said...

Excellent...

Helen said...

The visual image of our fingers working on remote control ... nice!

Ginny Brannan said...

Aw, the sweet nuances of hand holding, all in the movement and tracing of thumb on bare skin. I like the direction you took this poem, well penned.

John said...

"just one tiny pulse on its own" - great!