The people in my life

They come and go

Mostly irrelevant

Some hide a knife

Every day, every year

Many a man to interlope

Memories, faces, people, places

An endless spinning zoetrope

A day’s a station on the metro

Blurred multitude stepping off the train

On a journey, always passing

Close your fist around the rain

How many remember

What does it matter

Tears in an ocean

Pitter patter

A river is flowing

The current is strong

Sweeps me past beaches

Filled with happy throng

A thousand meetings

A million goodbyes

All of them fleeting

A bird in the skies

Actors, saying speeches of this and that

On an ageless stage

New Scenes, openings, and acts

Cities vanish with the turn of a page

Memories locked

In a vault so tight

A million miles

Beneath sun and light

As I close my eyes to sleep

My mind fills with visions of idyllic sunsets

Which fade into midnight deep

Of partings and empty spaces to me behest

I’ve given up trying

To learn new faces I meet

Or plans for conniving

Long-forgotten items, covered with a sheet

To what are we striving

At what object’s hest

The answer is nothing

Merely following the rest