Tired hands

Refill these hands

That worked hard and bled today

To add beauty and respect

To old clothes.

Hands not smooth and not shy

That travel quick through the stitches

And join the borders of a hot Sunday.

Give them water, a shake, and a rest

In your lap

Until fresh again.

Improvisation

I move my hands with care
But my eyes look at the future
As if it was more appealing
When certain.
Adrenalin and serotonin
Swim in improvisation and quick responses
Candid like swans
But frantic like their paws
Under the water.

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