The dryer is a useless metal box again

The dryer is a useless metal box again.

My shirts are draped over the radiator,

stiffening into cardboard shapes

that smell like a basement.

I found it in my parka, a wooden ghost

from a summer I didn't want.

The spring is a red-brown scab of rust

biting into the gray grain of the wood.

I don't even have a line to hang it on.