her mother's hands

It was an odd feeling

When she looked down and saw

Her mother's hands.

There, at the ends of her own arms,

Resting quietly in her own lap,

Her own hands, and yet not.

She stared for a while, wondering.

When did they sneak in,

These undeniable signs of time passing?

Her mind drifted, her thoughts flowed

To hugs and talks and tears and smiles

And years and miles and pain and love.

All that was left now were memories

And a heart left wishing and sad,

But grateful for the time they'd shared.

It was a comforting feeling

As she looked down and saw

Her mother's hands.