A Hand Is a World

A hand is a world in itself:

A twig, a peach;

The five nimble fingers are verbs

With a tiny speech.

A hand is a singing shell

Abloom with sun;

Or five weary people stilled

When work is done.

A hand is a sudden storm;

Or frozen leaf

MARCIA MASTERS

Stunned by a final frost

Of pain . . . of grief.