I Want to Hold Your Hand
Gwen Hobbis
gwenhobbis@btinternet.com
You want to hold my
hand?
Hangnails, brown spots,
red knuckles and all?
Are you sure?
Well, I don’t think I
am.
It reminds me of poor
dear Gwen Berry,
dressed in her scarf and
winter coat,
knitted hat pulled over
thin grey hair,
towed along the high
street
hand tight in her
husband’s firm grip,
parked outside the
window as he marched into our shop
and she gazed hopeless
into – who knows what?
Business done,
officiously efficient,
he hurries out to grasp
her hand again,
and away to their next
port of call.
‘In twenty years time,
that will be us’
I’d say bleakly,
twenty years ago.
Why don’t I hold your arm
instead?
Wouldn’t that do just as
well?
©2011 Gwen Hobbis
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