The reclaim

Expense report due. And the receipt,

the one I needed, was gone.

I knew where it was. Undignified defeat.

The kitchen trash, black bag, waiting dawn.

My hand went in, past the coffee grounds,

past the takeout boxes, cold and slick.

Feeling for that paper, the crinkled sounds

of my own carelessness, making me sick.

Then my fingers found it, damp, stained.

Pulled it out, unfolded it slow.

Small victory. Still, the shame remained,

the cold damp smell, nowhere to go.