A poem by Daniela Caride


Your soft little hand grabs mine

We just met

You aren’t shy

to touch

to be


What happened to me?

What happened to all of us who don’t?

We don’t

all of the time


While we both focus our eyes

on something else

your soft little hand

holds my calloused palm


Old fingers don’t bend

But such honest softness

restores weathered flesh

with its breezy balm


I return your touch

with a little squeeze

And then let it go

when you turn


But I know

something within churns

once more

with ease


One thought on “Aurora

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *