Hand Poem

Rescued from the margins of a notebook. My professor said, ” Observe the book closed-” in class, and that struck me as poetic. This poem resulted:

Observe the hand closed:
pointer like an eye shut,
fingers like puppies in a bed,
thumb like a hand over the eyes,
nails like faces trying to hide,
knuckles an arched back,
pinky, the cold one, nuzzling in,
never gets a better spot.