My Grandmother’s Hands

My grandmother’s hands have massaged tired limbs and weary hearts they have cleaned homes, swept floors, toiled grass roots in cemented lands laid bricks and mortar that paved the road to freedom. My grandmother’s hands have coddled bodega lotto dreams like her new born child they are lamb’s wool on the naked skin of future generations. My grandmother’s hands have clasped arctic tenement floors shielding 5 … Continue reading My Grandmother’s Hands