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The Lost Hunting Knife
by John McCluskey

With so many people in the Forest Preserve
on a Saturday in the Fall,
how come nobody else
          found the hunting knife?

The fat-handled weight.
The soft pouch where easy sleeps the danger,
          one snap at the top of the sheath to unleash and

          oh!
how the blade thinning to a purposeful edge
          changed everything!

Could I really have left it
on the forest floor
to glimmer deep
          into dead leaves?

 


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