"Hands"
My father joked once
About a man who moved
His hands a lot when
He spoke
Dad would say that if
You cut the man’s
Hands off, he wouldn’t
Be able to speak
My uncle, the poet Al
Robles, my father's
brother, spoke with
His hands
Hands attached to nothing
Hands attached to something
Mind attached to nothing
Mind attached to something
Heart attached to nothing
Heart attached to something
Yet everything
Uncle Al spoke with
Hands not cut
Off
From elders
From manongs
From community
From the whispering kulintang eyes of
Carabaos
From Nihonmachi
From jazz
From thick Manilatown dreams
Dancing in steam rice
From Kearny Street
From struggle
From the I-Hotel
From Delano and Watsonville
From Gold Mountain
From Angel Island
From Fillmore Street
From Ifugao Mountain
From Agbayani Village
With hands
He spoke of
Things
With hands
He felt
Things
Felt life
With his
Hands
Never cut
Off
© 2012 Tony Robles
(Photo by Bob Hsiang)