BEHOLD, THE MAN

The man I saw today with no arm,
talking and smiling and gesturing,
was obviously all there.
It was the look on his face
that made me know.

When I was alone again,
I looked at my right arm
swinging from my shoulder
and wondered if it’s something
that belongs to me, that I wear,
but isn’t who I am at all.

If I lost it would I be less whole,
would I still be all there?
What would my face show
when someone looked
and saw me with an empty sleeve?