Severance
Over the years,
the hands, now slightly arthritic
and wrinkled by the many multiples
of 180 plus days,
have developed a firm and steady grip
on the compass of countless young lives.
Thank you, Lord,
for slowly, gently, but persistently
prying those fingers free,
opening them to tomorrow.
Keith Langdon
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/severance-4/
