I have a bedspread’s hanging now—left for centuries in a drawer
It’s all I know of Hannah—quilted 1834
A simple silver bracelet—an ivory-headed cane--
A seashell from the ocean—a battered, old King James
These treasures once held dear, they’ve let for us to find
These lasting, mundane objects, these things they’ve left behind
The things they left behind.

A handmade tip-top table—a heavy lamp of glass--
A piece of cherished driftwood that she never thought would last
If they could just unravel—the lives they would unwind
But mute they’re here among us—the things they left behind.
The things they left behind.
A faded oriental—a painting of a wooded walk--
A tiny, sterling silver urn, left by great aunts long forgot
Their people have long left us, blurred memories in our mind
But bright and still they stand here -- the things they left behind
The things they left behind.

A sterling silver lighter case—a statue of a girl--
A leather book of Keats’ poems—a necklace made of pearl
Not long ago, she left me: gracious, brave and kind
Now all that remains are the things she left behind
Now all that remains of her are the things—
The things she left behind. The things she left behind.
Now all that remains are the things she left behind.