For Fingers


For those strange digits that grow out

from our hands like bamboo leaves – a song;


consider how they bring the world to us –

the way difficult things are made graspable.


And we are made taller because of our fingers,

their ten-fold possibility to reach up to our greatest


heights. They are our constant eyes –

in dark rooms, measuring the length of walls,


finding the light switch. They guide our children

gently from one to ten. Running down our lovers’ backs


they are more eloquent than words; when we have no lovers

they are our most intimate companions.


And this song for fingers would not be possible

without fingers: Listen – the music you hear



is being squeezed into existence by fingers.


Kei Miller

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