Friday, June 25, 2010

Touch - A Poem

So, I've been writing some poetry. I make no claims as to its quality ;)


Touch

I grab the handrail,
perhaps
to steady myself against the rocking of the train,
so I do not lose my balance.

It is surprisingly cold beneath my fingers,
and I know it will confer
a metallic
tang.

I don’t mind.

Slowly, I edge my hand downward
until my little finger
 is resting
gently
on
his
thumb.

It is surprisingly warm beneath my finger,
and I thrill even at this
slightest
touch.

I glance around, and wonder:
“Is anybody looking?”,
then snake my little finger round his larger one,
and flex,
and I find my balance.

James Croft, July 2010

1 comment:

  1. Glad you did, because my knees just buckled :-)

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