Hand

I grew for ages
In a shaded wood.
The flora lent me
Their hue
Combined with the
Precise polish
Only a zephyr
Could muster,
I am as you
Find me now,
Soaked and
Glistening in
A rich lacquer
Of verdant
Perfection.
But something
Went awry,
Long before your
Arrival.
I was once gentle,
Delicately reaching
For the heavens,
Fingers lax,
Palm free,
Until they came...
And with such
Virulence,
Uprooted me,
Severing my tie to
Mother Gaia.
So, gawk some more
At my organic bear trap,
Forever clenched
In spite of those
Who took
My resplendence and respite
Away from
Me.