For Children

Claire Schweitzer

Crinkled

7th-8th Grade Poetry Honorable Mention

My grandmother's hands,
are thin and crinkled
weathered with time
But when I press them into mine,
I feel their power
And I reach out,

So she could be with me.

The power of all that was,
The power of all that will be,
And the power of science
That has kept her alive,

So she could be with me.

I examine the creases,
that outline her fingertips.
The rough calluses
Memories of a difficult past
The pain,
(and the laughs)

The hands grope for peace
And a moment when all will cease,
Everything will fall into its place
And I will smile,
And linger close,

So she could be with me.