Not Garbage Yet

The Tin by the Stove

Bacon grease strained into an old coffee tin and left to set overnight. The ring of the old under the new, the spoon that lives in it, the potatoes it pays out for.

Not Garbage Yet

The Nail That Remembered the Bend

A nail pulled from old wood came out crooked. Tapped straight on a flat rock, it stayed almost honest — good enough for the next rough job.

Not Garbage Yet

A Bowl That Stopped Holding Soup

A cracked bowl came off the table and went out to the bench, where it holds screws now. The crack means nothing to the work it does today.

Not Garbage Yet

Eight Inches, Curled Two Ways

The tail left after binding off — too short to knit, too specific to throw out. It went in the tin with the others, still holding the shape of the last stitch.

Not Garbage Yet

Folded Flat Behind the Door

An empty feed sack, shaken out and creased into a square, tucked behind the door. Kept for a load it hasn't been given yet.

Not Garbage Yet

The One That Came Back

The mate went missing somewhere between the truck and the shed. The surviving glove is still warm, still good, waiting to be half of something again.

Not Garbage Yet

The Bag by the Freezer

Onion skins and papery ends, garbage at the cutting board, saved in a bag for the stock pot. What the knife rejects, the water wants.

Not Garbage Yet

One Corner Still Biting

A worn sheet of sandpaper, gone smooth almost everywhere, kept for the one live corner. Folded small to reach the last of the grit.

Not Garbage Yet

A Lace for the Tomato

A bootlace snapped too short to thread, given a second job tying a tomato plant to its stake. New work, and a softer knot for it.

Not Garbage Yet

The Tin of Last Inches

Stubs and drips from burnt-down candles, saved in a tin against the next outage. What the flame couldn't reach, kept for a wick not poured yet.