HANDS

Yes, Alcuin, it is another alone poem yet...in its lines is so much more than being alone. I do miss holding hands with the one I love. I miss who he used to be, way before I felt compelled to leave him. My irons will keep me busy, occupied, and sort of satisfied BUT I do have my moments. I will not be afraid to be alone. The ones who are moving out are my six year old grandson(whom I have raised and is now going back to my daughter), my brother who almost died this year and I nursed back to health, and my oldest son who has been my rock since I left his dad.

Now, to the poem, I like your ideas and have tried to incorporate some of them into the revision. What do you think now? 

----- Rene'