loose change

the blue bowl
on top of the refrigerator
is full of
change.
lint, screws and nails,
nuts
and bolts,
debris of the day
taken from
my pockets.
in time i'll take it
all to the bank
and let it roll through
the machine,
counting out
my cash.
spooning the nickels
and dimes
into the slot.
keeping the trash out.
it's clean
money
going in, clean going
out.
it feels like a bonus
for some reason.
like finding
change between the cushions
of the couch,
or dollars
in the dryer, warm
and crisp.