By Charles M. Sumid Copyright 2025 Written 2004

In the drawer with wedding silver,
this one.

My hand finds it in darkness.
Wood worn smooth
where thumb meets palm.
Blade thinned from sharpenings.

Morning bread.
Tomorrow’s onions.
December carrots.

The matched set hangs untouched.

When anyone helps in the kitchen,
I hand them a different knife.

They pause.
They understand.

Wood polished by years of work.
Grain lines visible now.

One day another hand
will wrap this knife in a dish towel.

The drawer will close.