The Legend of My Hand

by LeeAnne Lavender


My hand changes over time,

veins mapping experience and marking

photo:  B. Lavender

photo: B. Lavender

the passage of years and love and loss.

The territory sings a ballad

of touch and rain,

drops clapping, applauding each

crevice and line.


How many people have I touched with these fingers?

Do my babies remember being soothed and loved?

Loved as a laundress loves her linens

(thank you, P.K. Page and Pablo Neruda)

Loved as a sculptor loves his stone

Loved as a gardener loves her soil


My hand changes over time

and grows ivy and blossoms and

forgotten stones.


LeeAnne Lavender