The road of souls

In the warm winds of spring I stumble upon your wreckage
Lit by streetlamps and strewn across the street
Your body is nowhere
But when I look among the debris
I see pieces of your memory
Each one glows with a different colour
They are all shades of you
I slowly work across the road
Lifting each piece up and putting it in my satchel
When I am done I turn around
The wreckage is lifeless and half hidden in shadow
This is who you are now
Still in the night and unmoving
I lift my satchel full of your memories
It is a heavy load to bear
But on my journey I examine each piece in turn
Each piece that I turn over in my hands becomes weightless
Each day the satchel grows easier to carry
Each night I pass through the same street
Another piece of your wreckage has been cleared away
I can almost count the days until you’ll be gone