The knife lays flat
against an aging oak chopping board
surrounded by it’s own memories
carved through slashes and slices
my eyes scour the glistening blade
a calm silver
matching the solitary teardrop
gliding down my face
the noir neoprene handle
stares back in disdain
like an amputated limb
ready for disposal
the last thing sliced
was a tomato
blood red and soft flesh
that I held delicately
preventing bruising and blemishes
the last act
of a business
laid to rest
it’s obituaries written
through smiling faces
full stomachs
and empty plates.

This poem was written on National Poetry Day in response to the prompt ‘the end of a triumph’. It depicts the closing of my catering business due to the Covid-19 pandemic.

Thanks for reading.