Dust Clearance

My fingers hit the cardboard edge,

a gray cloud puffing out

the smell of the old basement

where the furnace used to groan.

It’s 5:45 AM and I’m kneeling

in my work pants, digging for a shoe.

Instead, I find a pile of markers,

caps off, dry as desert bone.

There’s a locket too, its hinge is cracked.

I opened it expecting a face,

but it’s just empty gold and a bit of lint.

I should probably throw this away.