They can be clenched tightly
or firmly straightened
to strike with force
and intimidation
against the face
of someone feared
or someone loved;
a stranger, a date,
a child, a spouse
But they can also
reach to lift one
who has fallen,
or been kicked,
to the ground
They can cock the hammer,
steady the barrel,
and pull the trigger,
carnage fall where it may
Yet they can wrap
another tightly in
a warm and loving embrace
They can slit a throat
(or pay to have it done)
for a bleating, bloody slice
on a death-filled dinner plate
Or they can pry
(or pay to have it done)
beans from their oblong pods
They can hold a beer
and a steering wheel
at the same time
They can pick a banjo,
mold shapes out of clay
They can work the soil,
reclaim the earth
They can bring food
as an offering
to a hungry belly
They can click a keyboard
or hold a pencil,
or a protest sign,
in the fight against injustice
or they can cover eyes
and pretend it isn’t there
They can build,
they can tear down
They can bring forth
compassion or destruction
If all else fails,
they can quietly
twiddle their thumbs
There is always a choice
how we use our hands
21 May 2020
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