who will go

who will go
and see to it, see
to the boxing
of his life.
the placards, the books,
the shelves
of things that only he
held tight.
who will go and see
that the body
is buried,
the accounts closed,
who will take care of
the things not given
away,
just left for someone
to take,
unsold.
who will go
and do these things,
it falls to you, your
turn
at the wheel
once held by small hands,
windows
rolled down,
a wind in your face,
a wind you still feel.