All remaining behind are these,
boxes, books, and photos you left.
No longer light of day to see.
Kept safe, secure, no fear of theft.
Love letters, words, long forgotten.
Long before what would come to pass.
Now I come, to sit with you often.
Next to your urn upon the grass.
And look at what remains are these,
things in boxes to remember.
The memories that no one sees
from our hearts in that September.
I keep them safe, so that I may
look again and recall the day.
