Subfloor

The cat thinks there’s a mouse under the frame.

I reach in, expecting a bottle cap

or a lost sock stiff with age.

My fingers hit the cardboard corner.

The rubber band is a brittle, orange snap

against my knuckle.

A stack of envelopes from the summer

we tried to fix the unfixable.

I don't open them.

I just push the box back into the dark

and tell the cat to find something else to kill.