Amy Lowell Prize, selected by Toni Bee
Consider the Fingers
With thanks to Aracelis Girmay
It starts with the brush of her fingers
on mine as we reach for the check.
Later she touches my cheek, lays
a hand on my neck until one stroke
opens me and she slides inside
my life, helps me build a garden
of pink geraniums, purple lobelia,
alyssum and a spike of dracaena
in patio pots. After the hip replacement
she waits for hours until I swim,
conscious again in my room to feel
her hand grasp my shoulder
like a lifeguard lifting me out of the deep.
She stays that summer until the night
she places one finger saying don’t move,
kisses me until I beg her
never to leave again. When we marry
she slips a ring onto me moist
from her palm and I promise forever.
The gold band has worn a groove
into my finger. Her hands, cool on my hips,
assure me she’s got me as I struggle to stand.
Got me so close she can draw me
to her instantly should I lose my balance,
cradle me against her to hold me up
or gently, when it’s time, let me go.
Katherine M. Clarke is a professor emeritus of Antioch University New England. She lives at the foot of Monadnock and often writes about loving women, living with a lifelong disability, and missing Canada. Her work has appeared in Breath and Shadow, Wordgathering, Northern New England Review, The New Verse News, and The Poets’ Touchstone.