I call him Jidu
the arabic word for grandfather
he demonstrates for me
the handshake of Kahlil Gibran
careful
and unhurried
he is pressing my hand
from the wrist to the fingertips
they met at a party
when Gibran visited detroit in 1926
apparently Gibran never forgot a
handshake
I know this hand he would say
if he had met someone before
Gibran is gone
and all his knowledge of hands
and my Jidu
now long ago
wherever I have tried to hold on
I’m left with a handshake of dust
indelible
my words hold more
reach farther
I will teach
the handshakes of the dead
to the unborn
Poems 4
