Dave Bonta's piece begins with a small, restless haiku-like scene: a hot night, an itch that has no cause. Then comes a line about wind and the sound of metal striking metal, which sets up an uneasy, slightly metallic atmosphere before the prose takes over.
The prose tells a simple story. The speaker finds an old leather sheath in the woods, with the remains of a hilt poking out, wedged between rocks. The speaker guesses at its use, wondering about sassafras digging but settling on deer poaching as likelier. What stands out is the final turn. Instead of taking the object home, the speaker admires how it is "half-transformed back into earth" and puts it back so the decay can go on.
The mood is quiet, curious, and a little restless, then calm. The speaker seems to feel respect more than ownership, content to let the woods finish their slow work. The title, "Knifeless knife," fits an object that is already more fungus and soil than blade.