Velvet box inside a drawstring bag. Pearl earrings? A brooch? Her husband knows better. The perfect non-jewelry gift is wedged into the ring slot. He lifts the stainless-steel body, presents it to her on bended knee. A miniaturized weapon of war from Seki, Japan. Craftsmen from this city of blades once forged swords for the samurai. Now they produce the world’s finest kitchen knives and nail cutters. She accepts. Places her ring-finger nail between the blades and squeezes. Exquisite sharpness, the shrapnel neatly captured in the case. Next year, she says, the matching toenail clippers.
about face
deadheading begonias
the retired peaceniks
poems and prose have appeared or are forthcoming in Akitsu Quarterly; Contemporary Haibun Online; Failed Haiku: A Journal of English Senryu; Gyroscope Review; Ink Sweat & Tears; Poetry Pea Journal; Prune Juice Journal of Senryu & Kyoka; Sledgehammer Lit; tsuri-dōrō (a small journal of haiku and senryū); and Unbroken Journal.
