Though I hail from Philadelphia PA, I live and write in Southern California. As of this moment, I have published three books: a chapbook, Balance (White Violet Press, 2012); a collection of poems, A Likely Story (Moon Tide, 2014), and an anthology of poems inspired by stories in public media, The Liberal Media Made Me Do It! (Nine Toes, 2014).
For Lavina Blossom
I used to think the hands
knew nothing, faithful tools,
feeling around in the earth,
flexing the versatile thumb.
I knew the hands could feel
the texture of bark, the tip
of the kitchen’s sharpest
knife, yet called this
dumb sensation, without sense.
But with focus, the fingertips
can find a dime in a pocket
full of change, can learn
what year it was minted.
The blind can read a book
or tell the time by touch.
The clever hands of lovers
find out the other’s secret places.
Clearly, the hands can close
the circuit between body
and mind, can draw a line,
can write lines too, like this.
Getting Lost, Being Found
Getting lost these days may be impossible.
Satellites circumnavigate the globe, finding
home, whether or not we want to go there.
Though we might take the body
far outside its proper time and place,
it finds its center every time, a gyroscope,
spinning in mid-air. So it is with me.
After arcing over continents
and frozen seas, where no one lives,
I see that journeying itself is simple.
How much more difficult a journey
would it be just staying where I am
and making something new of what I have?
©2015 Robbi Nester