Poem Analysis: A Hand by Jane Hirschfield

A Hand

Jane Hirshfield

A hand is not four fingers and a thumb.

Nor is it palm and knuckles,
not ligaments or the fat's yellow pillow,
not tendons, star of the wristbone, meander of veins.

A hand is not the thick thatch of its lines
with their infinite dramas,
nor what it has written,
not on the page,
not on the ecstatic body. 

Nor is the hand its meadows of holding, of shaping—
not sponge of rising yeast-bread,
not rotor pin's smoothness,
not ink. 

The maple's green hands do not cup
the proliferant rain.
What empties itself falls into the place that is open.

A hand turned upward holds only a single, transparent question. 

Unanswerable, humming like bees, it rises, swarms, departs.

I really liked Jane Hirschfield’s poem, A Hand, for many reasons. First off, I love her use of repetition in the poem with the words “A hand…” usually followed by the word “not”. It really helps create a rhythm within the poem, and helps to drive the point about what really is a hand. I also enjoyed how the poem spoke of what a hand isn’t by actually saying what most people consider a hand. It really makes the reader think—if what has been said isn’t a hand, then what exactly is a hand? What is the scope beyond it? Lastly, I really enjoyed how some the stanzas within the poem are just one line. This really creates emphasis on just what the poem wants to emphasis, as well as forces the reader to really take in the line.