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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HANDS, by LOUIS UNTERMEYER Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Strange, how this smooth and supple joint can be Last Line: Curved in a smile. . . . The mystery remains. Alternate Author Name(s): Lewis, Michael Subject(s): Hands | |||
Strange, how this smooth and supple joint can be Put to so many purposes. It checks And rears the monsters of machinery And shapes the idle gallantries of sex. Those hands that light the fuse and dig the trap, Fingers that drive a world, or plunge through shame -- And yours, that lie so lightly in your lap, Are only blood and dust, all are the same. What mystery directs them through the world And gives these delicate bones so great a power? . . . You nod your head. You sleep. Your hands are curled Loosely, like some half-opened, perfumed flower. An hour ago they burned in mine and sent Armies with banners charging through my veins. Now they are cool and white; they rest content. Curved in a smile. . . . The mystery remains. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY FATHER, MY HANDS by RICHARD BLANCO MY MOTHER'S HANDS by ANDREW HUDGINS I WAS BORN WITH TWELVE FINGERS by LUCILLE CLIFTON TEN OXHERDING PICTURES: A MEDITATION by LUCILLE CLIFTON FIFTH GRADE AUTOBIOGRAPHY by RITA DOVE THE TYPICAL HAND by ELENI SIKELIANOS THE CARPENTER by PRIMUS ST. JOHN A BIRTHDAY by LOUIS UNTERMEYER A VOICE FROM THE SWEAT-SHOPS (A HYMN WITH RESPONSES) by LOUIS UNTERMEYER |
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