Elan Mudrow
Smidgens
Clench
Where have these old hands come from?
For my wrists are still young
With smooth brown skin
Underneath layers of long sleeves
Tucked inside cuffs of fabric
Protected from abrasion
Firm wrists, supple, yes
Now, attached to deserts—hands
Showing ripples from sands
Grey reflected waves
Oceanic tides of dry sky ways
pale moonscape dunes
Bare upon the surface,
High above my hands,
Arms of softness and will
Whose definition, a lost and found of
Strength, reflected by a thousand instances
Along timelines of attraction
Forever pulling my grip up,
Out of rejection into touch
Balanced by bony mass
Intertwined with vessels
My hands hold ground
Picking up dust, layers found
years, polished and tarnished
A rough silver, black geography
Of film, a celluloid life soot
Upturned, exposed indexes
Fingers of palms, bared to catch
Hold, caress, passion’s heat hatch
Now I am ashy, burnt and keloid
If I pick up fire, I will not feel pain
Perhaps, my hands have
Brushed against the wind too often
Saved too many of my falls
Answered endless phone calls
Worked on many projects
Eyes, ears, mouth, checked
Over touched, always touching
To a slippery comfort, clutching
I clench my fists
One more time
All wrinkles and softness fade
22 Comments on “Clench”
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Elan Mudrow 
I think my brain is weird because I have a whole novel planned out just from reading this work of art. Loved my walk. Thanks Elan.
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This is wonderful.
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Wow…. Loved this…at the end had me staring at these old hands of mine and rethinking all of the places we have been…. Happy Holidays…
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I held my breath as I read. Words wrap around me. I am gone. Thank you, Virginia
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Reading this poem is like watching a Martha Graham or Alvin Ailey dance.
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Such excellent beauties, beauty of revelations and experiences. 🌹🌹🌹
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Incredibly beautiful. One of your best.
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Thanks! That’s worth waving my fist in the air and telling you that I care!
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Wow this poem is so beautiful! You have true talent.
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Incredible poem Elan. I so enjoy your work. You are a master craftsman and an inspiration!
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Lovely work Elan. An excellent contemplation.
Cheers,
Frank
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An old fist may not show the wrinkles ~ but it cannot hide the weakness
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This, my Dear, is timeless! There are numerous protege’s of you and i number I as 1 (hyuk!) and therefore I ask thee when you shall forebear my self and then they all will know that it is so. Bye!
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That was a GREAT poem! Interesting analogies with what hands do. Keep it up!
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This pulled me in so immediately and I was delighted by your words! I, too, have the “fire” hand and, in fact, your picture looks just like my hand!. Excellent, excellent job!
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You’re absolutely welcome!
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Beautiful! I can see the hands.
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exfoliators, moisturizers, and masks work wonders to cover over roughened skin…
wonderful words 🙂
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Thanks so much!
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This is so well written!
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Nice love the symmetry between the earth and the flesh
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