when my dad died and we dismantled the family
homestead I laid claim to my father's second best
knife: a small sharp tool that just fit your hand it
cut anything scaled fish removed burrs I trimmed
my goat's toenails with it my dad repeatedly said
to any user "be careful of my second best knife!"
we were; we all knew the value of that instrument
all the years it's been in my possession I've used it
a lot and always been most careful of it I have also
come to the conclusion that there never was a "first
best knife" – we'd none of us ever asked to see the
valued object – and I've mused off and on about
first and second best a first best of anything is often
too special too precious it's put apart even enshrined
maybe forgotten but ah a second-best gets regular
use constant appreciation but usually with the caution
of care I remember a young violist she sat by us cellos
in sinfonia but vanished I met her later she said she'd
quit, the world didn't need another second best viola
but the world needs many second best violas just as
it needs second best knives given a choice I'd prefer
being second best of anything than being first
2019 Jacqueline Jackson
