This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Winona chapter.
Hands change,
Not just with age
But whose they are,
Over a lifetime.
In the beginning it’s two,
And they stay the same
‘Til you feel done.
Then it’s more than one
For a time
Boy after boy,
Girl after girl.
Then just one:
Your love
Through everything.
More hands are coming—
The tiniest ones
Holding your fingers tight.
They will let go.
Little hands become big hands.
They hold others
They hold their love’s.
You’ve held many hands
Yours still hold your dear
Tired and worn
‘Til the end.