Those old shoes that we lived in on the dance floor
The pretty dresses that could not worn anymore
All the old things we packed from times before
It was all boxed away in the attic to store
All these things are gone now, yes, that is plain
Burned to the core, only the memory remains
Old letters so brittle with time they would decay
The things we can no longer put out on display
May be old but in our hearts new is how they stay
Were all here, but in a moment all burned away
All these things are gone now, yes, that is plain
Burned to the core, only the memory remains
In the aftermath of flames barely left any trace
All those things gathered to be held in their space
Pieces of the our past that cannot be replaced
I am grateful – there go I, but for saving grace
All these things are gone now, yes, that is plain
Burned to the core, only the memory remains
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Today Karin challenges to write about what remains, however we envision it.
National Poetry Month – Day 16
I give you what remains in a Pendrangle.
Stanzaic: Two or more of quatrain couplet pairs
Refrain: The couplet is a refrain repeated throughout
Isosyllabic: Hexameter (12 syllable lines)
Rhymed- mono-rhyme throughout: aaaa BB cccc BB…
Raivenne-lations 
Gathered and treasured, it’s only afterwards when it’s burned when we have the memories the past becomes clear
There’s a lot of pain here, but also a kind of wise acceptance, and lovely cadences. Thanks. k.
Beautifully poignant..!
I’ve been cleaning out my garage…..all those boxes of “old things we packed from times before”—lots of old letters….it struck me how strange it is that there is comfort in knowing it’s all there versus how devastating it would feel if, like in this poem, it was all burned away by the flames of a fire…..strange because none of it is stuff that I ever take out or ever even look at but for some reason I still just keep it all stored away in those boxes! Really, it’s like you said….it’s the memory that’s important because that is what remains when all else is gone.