Specimen hands

There are some hands whose past you don’t want to know
Hands that wound the clock above the fire
That exchanged rings under a crucified and Caucasian Christ
That reached into cabinets containing bottles of laudanum then fell by
Sides in a groggy narcotic daze
Hands that buried a secret in a paddock behind a church
That arranged stones just-so, then wiped their owner’s mouth.

Graeme miles