First I found a lid.
didn’t know it was a lid for a gun case.
I didn’t know he had stashed it away on a shelf
at the back of the cellar
in a styrofoam
flavor of earthy potatoes
devours the crispy smell of metal,
But there it lay, unused, glinting –
How gently it sinks into the palm of my hand
a muffled clink like my torn off pendant landing at the floor of the pool.
Fingers fold in rebound
there is power in this cold
sweet, sweet rust
This was my chance.