My Daughter's Hands Poem by David Byer

My Daughter's Hands

So tiny they were
Once not so long ago

Holding onto my fingers
Like they were trees

Touching, exploring, learning to grasp
Learning to hold, to help, to hug

Now those hands can do
So many things.

Callused with play, tanned from the sun
Freckled, speckled, and wearing Mom's rings

I've held them so often, but
Not near so long or close enough
Too soon to be out and about
On her own

*And now new set of hands are in hers
Ones that will take her into their future

*Together their hands will help and heal
Moving out to the world joined as one

But I'll always remember the feel of her grasp
And hold onto that when all else is past