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.