His Hands

Gripped with anger
Coated with cuts
Connected with their noses, jaws, and cheeks.

His hands,
Vacant, took clothes, shoes, and games.
Were quick.
Shook with amateurs.
Entered their home.
Took trinkets, jewelry, and
Were tied.
Education was ripped from his palms.

His hands
Held knives and blades to cut the skin.
Carved symbols to see the blood.
Anything to feel the pain.
Held sticks to hit the drums.
Strummed the guitar.
The sounds blared in his ears.
Anything to hear the music.

His hands
Gripped their flannel, tuxedo, and tank top shirts.
Collected their pay.
Sorted and bagged powder.
Held cigarette blunts and tablets between his fingers.
Touched, kissed, and danced with lights.

His Hands
Aided in a robber’s raid.
Were secured behind his back.
Clung to the bars, sunshine, and his word.

His hands
Were dressed with cuts and lime burns.
Gripped heavy hoses
Climbed unstable ladders
Applied, smudged, and scrapped rock.

His hands
Slipped between mine.
Placed on a ring.
Carried our girl in his palms
Patted her back and held her hands.
Cradled our boy’s neck.
Slid into his finger’s grasp.
.
His hands
Help with all their needs.
The gospel sits on his palms.
Are in God’s hands.
Work, lead, and hold us.
Anything to be a good man.