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Ode to My Fingers

Brianna Clark

 

Navigators of the stars,

Sculptors of the sand,

Investigators of the world.

 

Easing my anxiety,

You move,

Seamlessly but with meaning,

Tapping my knee in thumps,

Silent and soft.

Rotating a hair tie around yourselves,

Unraveling knots in strands of hair,

Repetitive motions,

Over,

And over,

And over again.

 

Relieving my pain,

You interlock with others of your kind,

Sharing static pathways of warmth.

You understand me so well,

To know that a single embrace,

A connection to your kind,

Can appease my solitude.

 

You are embellished by rings,

Of sapphire, ruby, or pearl,

Only the rings are seen for their value,

 

Not their slender keepers.

 

Engineers of my pursuits,

Messengers for my thoughts,

Scribes for my stories.

 

You do so much,

Yet are admired so little.

 

 

Brianna Clark, class of 2025, lives in her hometown of Hazlet, New Jersey, and enjoys going to the beach, writing, and reading dystopian fantasy novels. This poem was written in a creative writing course taught by Professor Blaney, who selected this poem for inclusion in WHR.