One Arm Tied

I was born with
Fingers outstretched
Leading with my left;

Mother sighed
At elbows clashing
Told me right was best;

At table, she
Would lace my arm
With string
Behind my back

I learned the chopsticks
Handicapped
To make up what I lacked

I learned to wait
To hunger
Never overcome
With greed:

It’s harder, though,
With one arm tied
To reach
For what you need.

-Shani Cadwallender (She says of this poem: “This poem is about a friend of mine, whose aunt went through this experience when learning to use chopsticks.”

Bios And Links

-Shani Cadwallender 

salutes magpies, keeps left, drinks pints, contains multitudes, and is comfortable writing about herself in the third person. Born in a house full of cats and raised in a town full of seagulls, she now lives in a city full of foxes, where she spends the day teaching about words in a high school, and the evening learning about them at Birkbeck College. She can be found hanging around the cemetery, eyes skywards. Among her compulsions are petting the dogs of strangers and writing poems, of which A Crow’s Diet, published by Dreich press,  is her first improper collection.