Left the broken tools, after the farm is auctioned, the tune the fathers used to whistle. Left a toy, a shoe, a scrap of paper blown from hand or bin. Left a bone, the smaller half of the split wishbone, left the wish not taken. Left over, the cold meat, the weeping pie. Left the direction a wave breaks when seen from shore, the side where you part your hair, the ring hand that says I chose or settled. Left to turn, left to leave the state, right to love it. Left alone, left behind, left or leaving by blade to throat or razor to wrist, mouth to gas, lung to water. Left the hand belonging to the devil, the hand forced to lie fallow in lap or table. Left behind, the ones who could not see God. Left the door you go into when the right one is locked. Left or left, the heart after they burned the fields, after we stopped counting steps or miles. Left the side of the heart that calls the blood back from the body.