This little trinket,
Bought at the night market.
Handiwork, crude and thick,
By itself, has no value,
Is not even new;
Nonetheless, it’s a keepsake.

Received it some time back,
A present from beloved Zac.
Still recollect the exact second,
When I held it in my hand.
It’s stored in my memory bank,
Bring it to the surface, I can.

The bangle, now in my drawer,
Since Zac has left this world.
Sometimes, taken out for a look,
Just to remind myself,
Nothing’s as important as health;
What a cruel turn our lives took.

*Photo credit: fotografierende from Pexels