Two hands

One hand flashes a mirror at the sun.
The other casts the shadow of a wing.
One hand opens a window.
The other hand lowers a lid.
One hand holds a nail.
The other hand loses the hammer in the grass.
One hand wears a ring.
One wears a scar where a ring used to be.
One hand tears up a note.
The other hand tapes back the petals on a rose.
One sifts through a box of old photographs for the boy half-buried
in sand.
One hangs the empty frame back on its hook.

One wrenches a nest from the crook of a branch.
One finds enough dropped feathers to build a whole bird.
One builds a box.
One buries the bird on the ridge.
One locks up the cabin.
One turns back the hands of a clock.
One grips the railing.
One drops a silver chain into the lake.
One presses a small yellow bud between the chapter on love
and the chapter on desire without an object.
One leaves the book out in the rain.
One hand tests the waters.
The other hand traces a name across the waves.