My Mother’s Hands

I cannot recall
the first time I recognized
my mother’s face in mine,
or her thoughts in my mind,
but as I grow older,
the connections seem to come all the time.
It was sudden this morning,
when I glanced down and saw
her hands typing letters on my keyboard.
As I watched her fingers transcribe
the words in my mind
onto the screen before my eyes,
I remembered
sitting next to her on the piano bench
as she played and played and played.
However could I have forgotten
such a tender time?

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