You pick me up when I fall down.
Hands working with you
together
my saving grace.
You teach me to be flexible –
sometimes standing upright,
other times curling for spoons.
Triangles – downward dog
the backs – sensitive
bent – curvy great shapes,
building blocks.
Straight – weird knobby things.
Skin that’s tricky to shave,
there’s really no
cutting corners.
But mostly, sweet knees,
you carry my bones,
my spine,
my strength.