Weekly Poem: 'First Thing'

**By Paul Hunter** Halfway through my first hot cup of tea I carve at the block till the first time the knife starts to slip. Rarely do I put in a morning bearing down on the maple, usually no more than a cooling second cup. If I am lucky I will have quit in time, there will be nothing hurt. If not, a touch of white glue on a toothpick, a sheet of waxed paper then a slab of heavy iron to flatten out the slip. Repairs can be invisible, or you might have cut away something you can't live without but have to unless you want to call the whole thing scrap. Either way the slip lets you know when the edge goes like the fall of a skater and you learn to watch for it. From then on a little sharpening for next morning at oilstone and strop since you can't have your tools too sharp first thing, or too ready to begin. Then it's on to ordinary work.   "Paul Hunter":http://www.pbs.org/newshour/indepth_coverage/entertainment/poetry/profiles/poet_hunter.html is a poet, musician, instrument-maker, teacher, and editor and publisher. For over a decade, he has produced letterpress books and broadsides under the imprint of "Wood Works Press":http://www.woodworkspress.com, located in Seattle. His poems have appeared many journals, and he's the author of several chapbooks and four books of poetry.