everyday things

When time runs out,
What will you leave
For others to find?

When your last day arrives,
What will they think
Of the things you left behind?

Little things might get overlooked or mean the world
Such as handkerchiefs and candlesticks,
Ornaments and letters never sent.

But what about the photographs without names,
The piles of scraps of paper and fabric and lace?
What about the just started journals barely written in?

There is so much,
Too much sometimes,
To remember or count.

When times runs out for me,
I hope you find more than things.
I hope you find the love I gave in every day for you.