This tiny poem catches a single moment in church. Someone has put on an old suit and is heading up to take communion, and the poem's last line stops us short: "hand of a lobster." We're left to work out whose hand that is and why it looks that way.
The most natural reading is that the speaker is looking at their own hand, held out for the sacrament. Maybe it's stiff, red, or curled, as if it has turned into a claw. The old suit may suggest someone who is aging, or who is dressing up in clothes that no longer quite fit. The image is odd and a little comic, but it also feels uneasy. The hand seems clumsy and unfit for something holy, like a creature out of its element.
The mood is wry and self-conscious. The speaker seems to see themselves with humor, but also with a touch of unease about their body, their age, or whether they belong at the altar.