Sonnet 21, Old Hiking Shoes

Sonnet 21, Old Hiking Shoes (Spenserian Format) Don't grieve for me here on the attic shelf; we're joined infinitely as one, you said. In an old moldy box now, by myself; my place was there tucked well under your bed. Don't grieve for me here within the dark dread; the days and nights meld together as one. Reflect on happy times, with stronger tread; sweet dreams now reign as dead leaves in the sun. Memories fade away after you're done; the old just crumble away into dust. Remember all the mountain trails we'd run? Fear, you showed none, only honor and trust. Don't grieve I'm here above your clarinet; on the top shelf, right beside your train set.