Saturday, January 5, 2013

On the other hand by Nancy Dzina


After Jennifer K. Dick's poem "Palm Reading" after Cole Swensen’s poem “Fingers: Alignment”

Someone else sees
in their hands our eyes
no longer (ours). This fading’s
not so bad, so long
ago apparent, no need
to rush things, after all
we have light years
before our map carries
much less names.

                           Invisible
petals drop, the flower
bursts to finish, the floor
holds a different notion of
where we are in the story.

The waggle of pages, time
gesture time: gently just-so cast
inner layer tender out then mend
one for another, knowing
and knowing not what hint
of rock may steady then break
any drift of witness. Even
interlocked phalanges
spring from open palms
unbrailled with potential.

When I was a kid, though I never
saw it, I knew the congregation
of the steepled church of hands
could become unpeopled
at the blink of a trigger guard.

Try to disturb my fist.

Good luck with that.

2 comments:

Jennifer K Dick said...

Like how this rewording starts to really head off in another direction. Enjoy so much your language, Nancy!

siftingthroughthelandfill.wordpress.com said...

Thanks, Jen... I linked it on my blog, maybe some tumblrs will wonder if they can spice things up with us. I am so little in the world, I value this way of speaking.