You are the bread and the knife,
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in the boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain upon the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down the alley,
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I am not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and - somehow - the wine.
~ Billy Collins
3 April, 2014