To A Nephew Newly Born
the most absolute beauty of course is your tiny hand
i want to put there the warmth of my sighs
the roundness of a peeble, the green minty scents of herbs,
the little ponderous glances,
a sunray, a whisper, a hush
at the tips of your fingers
wrinkles are always strangers there
your skin so tight and magical
not this callous hands of my
sunset this
roof without the moon and stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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