I wrote this poem for Alice Wisler’s online writing workshop, “Writing the Heartache”. We were to take something that was our child’s and write a poem about it. I chose a hand print of my precious daughter, Nina’. She was two years old. Nina died at the hands of a drunk driver when she was 15 1/2 years old.
in a frame,
Flashback of memories
days long gone,
yet still so fresh in my mind
as if only yesterday.
Tiny hand of my baby girl,
Fingers curled around my own,
Only a reflex to some,
But not in my mind,
For me only the purest
of loving connections.
Outstretched toddler hand
reaching out for mine.
trusting mother’s protective grasp,
maneuvering the busy streets,
we skipped together,
Slender-fingered teenage beauty,
polished nails, smooth scented hands.
Hands pushing me away,
Sensing somehow her reluctance,
Not really ready, not quite yet…
Hands of her adult years,
I thought would have held mine
as I navigated through the ageing years.
Hands to comfort, but never to be,
I am left only with my memories,
and tiny handprints,
in a frame…
Written by Cathy Seehuetter (Lesson 2)Tags: Neil Chethek