Fifty Years Is A Long Time...
Well, I guess I've done it, somehow.
Had me a nice old pocket knife,
from an Army TL-23 lineman's set,
I believe it was called,
and got it when I was in Vietnam in 1967.
Had it all these years - almost fifty years.
Always kept it in the drawer right here to my right,
and used it to open mail, small packages.
Always put it right back in that drawer.
Never carried it with me anywhere,-
it stayed in that drawer
for the last twenty years, anyway, if not more.
Beat up old thing, good blade, though,
and a screwdriver blade in there as well.
Old smooth worn black handle,-
always wondered what that handle was made of.
Loop on the end of the knife....
never really understood that, either,
but it was part of it.
Today I went to use it to open a small package,
and it's not there.
Looked all over for it,
even in places where I would never put it.
My wife doesn't know what I'm talking about,
says I must have lost it.
I guess I must have, somehow.
Sure wish that I hadn't, though.
Almost fifty years is a long time to have a good friend.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|shiloh (184.108.40.206) -- Wednesday, June 22 2016, 03:57 pm|
My wife found my knife the very next day.
It's good to have a wife.
|Becky (220.127.116.11) -- Wednesday, June 22 2016, 10:50 pm|
Especially a wife who finds the knife. Maybe she has a bit of a poet in her too.
Made for a good poem.
Click here to read other Poems by Shiloh
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