The Hand

I stood beside the hand I held
And saw it tell a story
It spoke of years when time was young
And the years in sun and glory

It stroked my hair, and with a twist
Touched my elbow then my shoulder
Romance became companionship
As the two of us grew older

Sometimes I thought I’d lose that hand
It left through open door
As it walked away, I turned and thought
I’ll hold that hand no more

Time passed by that open door
In a haze I saw the hand
Walk under the porte corchere
To the courtyard where I stand

I felt a crisp and ardent feeling
Indescribable to me
With fingers interlaced
We strolled the beach-front,
To the sea.