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Empty Fingers.

Updated on October 1, 2009


Empty fingers

on November 30, 2006.  ©-MFB III 


Empty fingers
curl around air,
10 digits in a row,
slightly bowed,
relaxed, but empty.

Often they've held
a tiny infant's hand
and marveled at the sight.

They have also pounded life
into the dying
clearing air passageways
saved two... lost three
one was a tiny child rescued
from death's sure grip.

Walked miles through yellow pages,
turned the plots in lots of books,
and paperbacked the walls of my mind often.

Entered the sweet ecstacy of many women
moving them across my palm
telling their fortunes
in loud sighs and whispers.

Pulled triggers,
tossed dice,
played guitars and
pounded them in a fret.

Held hands, and took lovely walks
on beaches long since eroded.

Counted to five
when I was but that,
slapped high fives,
slapped the skin on some
tambourines and bongos,
slapped the corn out of
a choking man's throat.
watched his uncomfortable
embarrassment around me
for days after.

Created thousands of
miniature sculpures,
painted canvas,
gripping a brush
just enough to stroke
pieces I mastered.

Played and giggled
with many puppies
delighted a lot of cats
with that special scratch.

Stopped the bleeding in
numerous holes,
couldn't stop up
Jesus's though,
for I was part
of the cause.

Left fingerprints on many
a bar glass, and bottle.

Stuck my hands in a lot
of strange places
and retrieved a lot more grief.

Waved at so many passing,
some have long since passed on.

Shook the hands of the common man
strong hands... work hands,
shook the hands of celebrities too,
soft ...refined,
who looked like they were so far
above the natural acts,
the primal things,
ordinary folks do daily,
couldn't imagine them
taking a squat. 

But I've changed
they are human just like us,
even changed over 1800 diapers,
and the  excrement
for both is all the same,
it all goes to crap you know.
leaving empty fingers curled
around nothing..but air.

Held cigarettes and joints
staining the tips of my fingers,
and fingerpainting my mind.

Helped little ones learn to draw,
drawing great joy from
thier satisfied faces.

Saved a puppy from drowning
in an icy pond ,
went up against his Rotwieller mom,
who was hoping for a flesh wound
or two out of my body.

Opened mail and penned poems
by the thousands,
got more pink slips then any
Barbie collector.
rejections wallpaper my studio.

Silenced men in dangerous place
with a finger on my lips,
played war and shot
the neighbor kids with my finger,
bang...bang.... you're dead,
they fell...
empty fingers clutching air.

Sprinkled dirt
in countless graves,
and a few POW braceletts as well.
Stood in Arlington and wiped
many tears falling in a ragged stream.

Dialed my mother often,
now there is no answer,
had to sign the order
to remove her from life support,
fingers shook that day,
heart stopping tremors ,
she's beyond my fingers touch now.

Fingers have done
so many endless tasks,
10 digits times
a trillion moves,
cartiledge lubricated
against bone,
all the knuckle sandwiches
I've cracked.

In the end it's just
empty fingers
curled around air,
but what they left behind,
what they touched,
who they helped,
and what they were
able to move,
fills that space
long after they are but
empty bones in a satin box,
curled around nothing

b u t   E  t  e  r  n  i    t    y.


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    • always exploring profile image

      Ruby Jean Fuller 7 years ago from Southern Illinois

      So beautiful, so sad,so great, what more can i say?

      you have a gift

      God Bless