My Lasting Minutes

I fold your clothes, piece by piece,
each fold a memory, a soft sigh.
The shirt you wore, once warm and soft,
now lies cold and silent, without your laugh.

Your pants, worn thin at the knees,
hold tales of our days, wild and free.
Socks you always seemed to lose,
now in my hands, a treasure I choose.

I catch your scent, faint but still there,
in the collar of your coat, precious and rare.
The closet empties, but my heart stays full,
with love and longing, a ceaseless pull.

I pack your clothes, but not your soul,
for you remain within, a quiet, eternal lesson.
In every fold, in every seam,
you live on, sewn into my heart.