The Hands Poem

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artist hands

The artist hands
are always dirty
The paint gets under the
nails and covers
everything
The artist hands play
in the materials like
a child plays in the
mud
like a pig who delights in it,
the artist hands plant commas in this poem
plant exclamation in your soil.
The artist and the farmer have
wide feet for the soil
wide hands for the work
a stout heart for the work
for the work
for the work
The farmers hands are
the same hands.
God’s hands are the same hands.
Your hands are the same hands.

david michael jackson june 21, 2012 dave@artvilla.com send love

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