When You Read My Palm
Please remember
when you read my palm
that its creases
are still fragile.
Though the skin may be
dry, cracked around the knuckles
from another cold, long winter,
the lines are soft
etching stories
out toward my fingertips
like an estuary
you can read.
The lines might say
I once read an entire book
out loud
doing all the voices
for no one
but me.
The lines might say
I once led an army of students
to a fountain to protest
to show that hate
has no home here.
The lines might say
I once gave two strangers
a ride home
from the cemetery
when a storm broke out
and I wasn’t there
visiting the dead.
The lines might say
I once took a box of crackers
from a food bin
because I needed them myself.
Please remember
when you read my palm
I don’t know
what splinters you will follow
what stories will come out.
Jess Witkins
Jess Witkins is a Wisconsin-based writer, blogger, and storyteller. Her work has been published in local and national magazines. She is co-president of the nonprofit writing community, Mississippi Valley Writers Guild. She has a forthcoming essay titled "The Funeral Photographer" coming out in an anthology with Gelles Cole Literary Enterprises.
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