Little Hand

I remember your little hand,

Light, almost weightless,

Like sky, or laughter–

Like a small bird nesting in my palm;

Your fingers pecking like kisses,

Tickling like barley whiskers

Skittering under my grip.

Your hand – a twitching mouse

Scribbling giggles on my skin,

As you scamper beside me,

Beaming up with each step,

Your fingers closing in mine.

My fingers easy to hold,

To keep your small hand.