One pair of hands works a garden
Pitchfork Slung into the earth
Turn over the soil
One pair of hands pulls out the rocks
Tosses them into the barrow.
One pair of hands digs the small valley
And places the tiny seeds one by one
Covering them gently with warm, black dirt
Patting them in, tamping them down.
One pair of hands works a garden.
Many hands together
Work a community
Pulling out the weeds
Planting new shoots
Encouraging seedlings with water and food
The hands bind the wounds
carry the burdened
Teach the children
Shuck the corn
Stir the rice
Pour the water
The hands work together
Small hands, big hands, calloused hands, soft hands
Hands with ground in oil under the nails
Hands that are tan and black and pink and red from cold.
Grasp my hands and we will grow a neighborhood
We will grow a community
We will grow a city.
Grasp my hands.