“I know my hands may never calm down.
The ghosts around me will be dim, juiceless, but my hands
“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies… A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there.”