objects from the past
held close still
I am loath to let go

do they hold a pulse
core of life
beating at our touch

or arresting fade
tender shells
husks holding wishes

shall I cast them off
finding peace
in open spaces

or indecisive
wait to act
until the new lune

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The first day of NaPoWriMo 2016. This is a lune* made up of five 5-3-5 stanzas.
*3 lines of 5-3-5 syllables