2006 Honorable Mention

ANNE GREENBERG

UPON DISCOVERING THE DISAPPEARANCE OF MY LEFT HAND

How careless of me, while doing
Sunday chores, to lose my left hand.
Busying myself with housework,
I did not stop
to notice its absence
until the lack of weight
became so apparent
I could not dust the mantel.
Was it the fault of my hummingbird mind-
fluttering from room to room
like the smell of a cake?
Or my hand's desire for a manual holiday,
scampering off to the winter closet
to cozy itself up in a glove?
Maybe it left in protest, fed up from
many years of being trumped by its
overachieving twin.
Or perhaps it was the fault of my left wrist
that decide to let go
(he's known to do menacing things
like that).
I last saw it doing laundry,
weaving its way through
pillow cases and crumpling
undershirts for a white load.
I'm certain that I dropped it in.
I hope my skin doesn't stain my socks.