A boy gave it to me.
It was sleek and silver
and made of so many parts.
Complexity and ingenuity.
When I got it, it was unmarked.
The blade folded smoothly,
immaculately sharp and perfectly
cared for. The steel was pristine.
Hand over hand, brother to brother.
I used it many times since.
The blade is still sharp, but the steel
is marked in a few places. Scarred.
He laughed when I told him,
showed me his new one.
Beaten, battered, nicked, scarred.
Immaculately sharp.
Form or function. Complexity woven
through ingenuity to be smooth.
I think of how much he’s changed,
the man who gave it to me.
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| When it comes to family, some things will never change |
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| "Welding is the only kind of art you do with a stupidly hot torch. You need finesse, but you also need to melt two pieces of steel together." - Alan Osuna He says he's not very good with words, but sometimes he just says things that deserve to be written down. |
Inspirational Works:
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| Something about the intricacies of clockwork make me think about the tool I was given and based this poem on. Little pieces all working together to make something amazing that just keeps working. |
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