OLDER HANDS

OLDER HANDS

His fingers
Slightly curled
Testifying  !
The tight grip
For happiness
Impossible
To hold

His hands
Wrinkled
Lines  of aging
His left hand
Mover than his right

I don’t remember
Were we met
I walked asleep
Thinking unconscionable
Questions ?
Of my rope
Griping my life

In what church  ?
Who’s store ?
Was it a street corner
Drinking vodka ,  at a bar

When he said ?
Please excuse me
I will be out of your way
One , moment please ?
My mind is sharp 
But my grip
Is less  , than it could be

My thinking , walking at sleep
He is called ?

Politely , a old man
Move out of my way
Another old  dad
Pops  , profiled


In his reply ?
First
I know you
Second , how is your dad
I was the one who loaned
Your family the money
I cosigned for your life