Poem: The Touch

Sistine Chapel, Rome

When we meet, we touch fingers

Like Man and God once did on

Michelangelo’s fresco.

Now God’s fingers are beyond

Reach but timid indexes

And thumbs still link together

The abundant and the meek,

The towering and the sleek,

The stronger and the weaker.

Our electro-sensitive

Fingers cure and celebrate

The wackiness of being.