My left-handed niece
She with the siren hair and 
the megawatt smile
Has the same hands (as me)
Square-ish, small-nailed, capable.

Mine are deft on a keyboard
Awkward with a Frisbee
Generous with a pinch or a pat or a
message written on a steamy window.
Tracing hearts are the first to mind
Then my name
Sometimes I carve out a little window
To see what I’m missing
Out there, in the world.

Hers will know
handstands and
harmonicas
Be the holder of rings
from consorts or alma maters.
Trowels, teapots, toggles and tangerines.
I hope
Trapeze and a tow rope
It’s important to know
When to let go.

Keyboards black and white
Frets, certainly.
Fevered foreheads
Gloves woolen.
High fives and peace signs
held high and often
“Cheque, please”
When your lids are closing
and you’ve had enough.

Give and make waves
Ride them too
It’s a long journey
These hands will carry you.