Who will inherit the remnants of your life?

And if they do, what will they find?

The fading print on old receipts

from travels made through a hurried life

Too many purses once collected

for their paint by hand or cottage chic

Shoes with asymmetric wear

from where your weight inexpertly held

you close to ground for fear you’d fall

from the gloried heights you held in mind

Softened cotton drained of dye

fibers locking in the scent of sweat

of turmeric, fried cumin and mustard seeds

splattered ink and engine grease

the marks of many more pursuits

to occupy your mind and keep it from

a world that captured every waking scene

with guilt or fear or joy or hope

when you let it

A box of treasures with knicks and knacks

securely kept from drag of time

those most precious souvenirs

inanimate but for its place in mind

transporter to a different time

Dried and parched leaves in a book

a tepid collage never made

Plastic chairs with well worn paint

where you sedentary lay

creature comforts of your routine

or painted relics to hide away

the drip drip friction fade of years

where you wiped away the tears

of passing friends both young and aged

loss on either side of life

Until you solitary found

a purpose built to tapered time

in goodness, grace and giving back

to those born differently chanced.