I gaze upon my mother's hands
see my own reflected there
my daughter's, granddaughter's
grandmother's as well.
hands folded in her lap, nails filed and polished
rings sparkle on her fingers
no awareness of how beautiful she is.
hands that were
capable, strong, gentle, vulnerable.
it’s holding hands and memories
that linger in my mind
her warm embrace, her tender kiss
the 'I love you'we left behind