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The Gift
The Gift
“You have his hands” they say.
Blunt, broad, and strong;
the rounded nails and heavy palms, his grip.
Some memory, stored within each line,
each fingertip, each scar, from half a life away.
Old-leather hard with work and age;
weather-carved and worn with every s...
Sunday 15th March 2009 11:34 am
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