Images | A poem by Bert Meyers, 1981
Louise Bourgeois, Hands, 2002-2003
State III of VIII
.
Hands, twin sisters
to whom everyone’s
a wrinkle
that needs to be smoothed,
a stranger who should be fed.
Hands, those humble wings
that make each day
fly toward its goal;
at rest, still holding
the shape of a tool.
Bert Meyers, Images, X, 1981
(The Wild Olive Tree & The Blue Café)
