MARISSA GLOVER
The Archaeology of Dryer Lint
This morning I found something important
in the lint screen of my drying machine,
but I don’t know for sure what I’ve lost. It’s not
the Ark of the Covenant or a mysterious stone
to rescue children. The tiny balls of shriveled
paper could be anything—work’s 1040 for
the year’s taxes, my mom’s pound cake recipe
I asked for last time I visited, an idea
for a poem that would’ve won awards—
and there’s no one here to help figure it out.
No Indiana Jones with fedora and bullwhip
and dry-clean only leather jacket; no one
to excavate, fit the pieces together, match
jagged edge to crooked corner. Even in
my ignorance, I’m sure I’ve lost more
than I’ve found—these easy quarters
that roll and bang the drum on occasion,
each coin a small, rare gift. Maybe there’s
no reason now to mourn; maybe it’s only
a tissue once knotted with phlegm.
But maybe it was a map to where
this life will go, something charted
with predictions I could learn to read,
something telling me how to prepare,
how to be ready.
Named a 2020 Best of the Net Finalist and recently nominated for a 2021 Best of the Net by Middle House Review and River Mouth Review, Marissa Glover lives in Florida, where she serves as co-editor of Orange Blossom Review and a senior editor at The Lascaux Review. Marissa’s poetry collection, Let Go of the Hands You Hold, was released in April 2021 from Mercer University Press. You can follow Marissa on Twitter and Instagram @_MarissaGlover_.