Hands Open

I reached for cotton floating through the air;
grasp after grasp it evaded my clutch,
floating effortlessly between my fingers.

Then I reached out with an open hand
and the cotton propped against my palm;
I slowly guided it toward me
until it dropped into my lap.

Working together we found a state of harmony.

Then with my hand still open
I scooped it up and cast it high into the sky
where the wind carried it away
along its journey.

And I stood,
from where I was lounging in the grass,
and continued on my own.



*This poem is included in the book — The Owl in the Concrete Tree: A Poetry Collection — click HERE more more details, to buy the book, or to download a free PDF excerpt.

©2022 Angel K Will
Blog Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

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