A hand print on the step
Made so many years ago
Formed in wet cement
A child's hand it shows
That little hand was mine
The cottage once my home
Returning to childhood memories
Now a man fully grown
I can hear my mother calling
"Time to wash your hands"
Can see her in the kitchen
Rattling the pots and pans
The window where I sat
Waiting for Dad to come home
Also the very same window
Where our Christmas tree was shown
Never will I forget
The childhood memories here
Frozen in time, a handprint
Draws to these eyes a tear
©2005 Rick Bessette