keys

so many keys
on the ring.
some without
a lock to turn,
but stay on
just in case.
the house,
the car, the truck,
the bike,
the shed, a
lock box with
papers for when
death occurs,
an old trunk
full of things
you wrote when
you were young.
full of fire,
full of
resolute hope
that somehow still
remains, gold
keys, silver,
tarnished, worn
and rounded.
keys that open
cans and turn
screws when
the screw needs
turning. keys
that scrape
off the soft
grey tissue
from the face
of lottery
tickets
that never ever
match. there
is only one key
missing. and you
know which one
i mean.