How many years of suffering
revealed in hands like his
small and deliberate as a child’s

The way he raises them
from his lap, grasps the teacup
with sure, unhurried ease

Yet full of anticipation
for what he will taste in each sip
he drinks as if it’s his first time

Lifts the cup to his mouth,
a man who’s been practicing all his life,
each time tasting something new.

From Stone Bow Prayer; all rights reserved.
Posted by kind permission of the poet.


Poetry