An Old Knife


  • Life
  • ,
  • Family

    An Old Knife

    Chopping leftover onions into tiny bits
    Destined for the freezer with some green peppers
    My eyes tearing up. Thank goodness I've the onions to blame
    The old knife whispers softly as it works.

    Beside my pile of onions on the cutting board
    Lies the shiny never-needs-to-be-sharpened
    Marvel of the cutlery art I bought in the aisle
    At Sam's from a demonstrator with a slick patter.

    He tossed tomatoes into the air and cut them smooth in half
    A single swipe of the "Amazing Eversharp Knife".
    So I bought the set for my Sweetie
    She says I never sharpen knives.

    I mostly use an ancient paring knife for slicing and dicing
    Whittled down to a long thin blade by time and years
    Scraping back and forth against the patient whetstone.
    Old knives are best though you do have to sharpen them from time to time.

    © 2014 by Tom King

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    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    twayneking’s Poems (38)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Nobody At All 0
    Dialects 0
    An Old Knife 0
    Across the Void, Fingertips Afire 0
    Snizzle 0
    The Letters of the Law 0
    Fresh Powder 2
    Mirror 0
    Roadside Stand 0
    The Chosen Road 1
    Direction 2
    Daisy in Distress 0
    The Wallapaloozas 0
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    The Bus Toll 2
    Reaching 6
    Free Enterprise 3
    Whirling 3
    Gonna’ Walk by The River 3
    Daisy's Brown Eyes Shining 2
    Christmas Psalm 5
    Limerick Cycle 0
    Press Conference 2
    Oak Trees on Fourth Street 0
    Neighbors 2
    Time to Fill the Feeder 3
    Hoping 3
    Night Music 5
    Sheila, laughing-eyed 2
    I'm Chasing Dreams 2
    Flower Man II 1
    Christmas Bells 2
    where i am now 5
    The Fields of Hay 2
    I Sat Down in This Damnable Chair 1
    The Flower Man 1
    For Tim 2
    Blessed 2