In Rodin's Hands

When I miss you,

I miss your hands to curl
my heart into.

-bluegrass blues on mandolin.
-drawing designs for a higher view.
-reconstructing tools into instruments.
-cuddling cat fur.
-morphing into tighter spots.

-compressing into vicelike strength.

-spreading a pyramid of support.
-pressing flesh with delicate fasciculations.
-articulating to tap, trace, scrape, slide or ruffle.

I miss inter-lacing through the windows of our souls.

Missing someone can take all shapes, forms and feelings.  What do you notice most when you miss someone?

 This poem is generated from a trip to Philadelphia, and the Rodin museum.  Before I spent 4 days studying hand surgery and rehabilitation, I spent 1 1/2 hours circling the bronze figures of hands, feet, nudes and faces at The Rodin Museum. 












This is what I miss.....