Hand

On a plate, everything handed
to me, so often, by you. Thank you.

And, hand,
you handle an itch effortlessly

but, just as easily,
can become a fist;

can beckon, but then,
with a flick of the wrist…

someone’s dismissed;
when you connect

with your partner
clap clap

I hear applause;
a finger to lips

means silence, of course...
shhh!

Such power you wield,
my flexible friend.

Sometimes it’s a light touch,
the right touch,

knowing what’s needed, wanted.
I do take you for granted

but oh…
the things you can do!

When you put it there for example…
Ooo!