these baby teeth in little (plastic) baggies
[somewhere in my parents' bedroom]

thedog they never met    ,    teething gently on my fingers and silver ring.
these mornings of getting up.
and days of doing all the daily things,

steak+egg breakfast
front porch clutter
sitting on the rug, looking through rubbermaid bins


          •old t-shirt
          •woolen socks
          •die-cast airplanes


dust in the air and [skin on my palms]
yellow film of last year's pollen over laundry baskets that are no longer mine