Hadara Bar-Nadav
My hand grew big as a house.
It was heavy to carry
and drag through the streets.
I staggered across the lawn
on gravel-burned knees
to watch the home
I could no longer enter.
My wrung wrist turned blue.
My shoulder bled.
Skin tore up my neck
and split open my eye.
I had given too much.
I had taken too much.
The hand grew
as the sky grew,
hand the size of wind
expanding until it was no longer
my own, until the weight
buried me.
_______________________
About "The Last Gesture," Hadara Bar-Nadav writes:
The “The Last Gesture” is from my first book, A Glass of Milk to Kiss Goodnight (Margie/Intuit House, 2007). I’m still humbled by the lines: “I had given too much / I had taken too much.” Those lines remind to walk carefully though this world, often full of many difficult and strained exchanges regarding money, objects, love, and life.
About "The Last Gesture," Hadara Bar-Nadav writes:
The “The Last Gesture” is from my first book, A Glass of Milk to Kiss Goodnight (Margie/Intuit House, 2007). I’m still humbled by the lines: “I had given too much / I had taken too much.” Those lines remind to walk carefully though this world, often full of many difficult and strained exchanges regarding money, objects, love, and life.
