What was left me
A brown paper bag
It’s contents hardly
The relics of Kings
It worth to tip no scales
Folded maps of New York City streets
He knew I poorly navigated
Patches from a union job
To stitch unto a denim sleeve
A prayer card from the Trinity Church
Near the site of 9/11
A sand dollar shaped clock
That required two AA batteries
And CD of Alpine sounds
A treasure trove to touch my hurting heart
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