Death of a Fork

A Poem by Julia Ledo

Never in my life had I seen a fork die
But this one had definitely seen it’s day
Tarnished and prongs bent over with age
Laying on its back
Straining to say
“It is all well and good”
“To touch the lips”
“And then the food”
“But one must do what can only be done”
“Which is to do the latter first”
“And then the former one”
As the light left its eyes
I held onto it tight
Whispering softly,
“You put up a good fight”
And I laid it to rest
In the plastic grid coffin
Moving on to the dish pile
And putting the rest of the wash in.