It was buried in the junk drawer under a tangle

It was buried in the junk drawer under a tangle

of dead chargers and rubber bands turned to glue.

The plastic casing is tacky, catching the angle

of the overhead light like something almost new.

I press the start button and it lets out a click

that feels too loud for this empty kitchen.

The liquid crystal display is playing a trick,

fading out, the black numbers starting to thin.

My thumb hovers over the reset, waiting for zero,

but the segments are dying, one bar at a time.

It’s a cheap little ghost, a forgotten hero

of a race I ran when the world was in its prime.