I polished your cufflinks –

the ones in onyx, with BW in script,

knight heads in helmets, and peridot chips.

Did mom ever take a toothbrush to your tie bars,

or breathe on your bracelet and buff it

then hand to you to wear it?

They’re shiny, now.

I did them.

They were so dusty I swear I could smell it.

I’ll bet you’d laugh at what I was doing

since men don’t pierce double-windsors with pins anymore,

wear tiger-eye rings or keep a pocket-knife handy.

They’re drying on a towel in the kitchen.

Your box was so musty that sunlight wouldn’t cure it,

so I had to pitch it.

I guess it’s time for a new one, now

for someone else to rattle someday, look inside,

turn the tap and rinse away the grime.