The things I leave behind

The books of course. Some read,
but most will remain virginal,
ensconced in their bookcases
as time compresses me.
There will also be the photos I took
of lands I had dreamt of as a child
but traversed as a young man,
treading the world like an old-time
sea captain, sans ship or crew….
Few images of me—my vanity did not
bend that way, though I was skilled
at being selfish, reluctant to give my
heart away, though now I see it was
really just fear—Old Man Fear, the
oldest of all bar Death itself.
But I learned, yes, the hard way mostly,
as was my wont,—and Fear
moved his old bones away from me,
letting my soul warm, letting my heart
grow to love another soul for most
of a lifetime…
That will be the best thing I leave
behind.