Self-Portrait with Knife

I see here reflections of my sentiments on onions and whetted knives

O at the Edges

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Self-Portrait with Knife

Lacking benefit of prayer or belief,
it slips through flesh,

praising its temerity. Or,
parting the onion’s core, reclaims
the right to weep.

How many nights have we shared
these pleasures? I smooth the blade

with steel, listening to the fine hum.

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About m.a. wood

writer, thinker, musician, teacher
This entry was posted in poem. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Self-Portrait with Knife

  1. amabear says:

    very cool.

    Like

  2. kirizar says:

    I do wonder, if it is a self portrait of an onion as much as of the pleasure of chopping one up to make it cry?

    Like

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