I write a line then sit up

As I reflect,I am caressing one hand with the other

The way I might  apply hand lotion.

Or my lover might.

My elbows are on the arms of this old chair.

When I am puzzled ,I place

 the palm of my right hand

Over the back of the left and pull ot to and fro

As if to ease out a thought

Ask for a gift.

Or pull it out of this pen-holding  hand by magic.

I write a line then sit up straight.

My lips are pursed;

I look up as if asking God to help

But I’m looking inwards

Where a dream image may float by

My left foot taps on the carpet

Calling the dead to return.

Now I’m  kneading my hands,anxious.

Am I uncertain?

I can’t say what I want.

I  intertwine my fingers,pull on them both ways

While looking out of the window

The sap is rising  in the shrubs

and though no leaves  open

The branches and twigs have more colour

Than last year .

But you were here last year

I bite my lip and narrow my eyes;

Who am I fighting?

Now my hands stretch and relax;

I smile.

The mind lives in the body.

Where?

The mind is the body.

How?

I frown in confusion and slight anger

At him for going.

It’s coffee time.

The door bell rings.

I stand up.