Time, people and things

How quickly the days and weeks pass
and the months and years
that follow them out of the door

And all the people who slip from view
good bad or indifferent
seem to go the same way

I try to make the best of it
to soldier on as you do
but I’m out of master-plans

I search the cupboards and drawers
for something to promise myself
unearthing relics, one then the next

Sitting among them on the floor
I see there was never a scheme

So I pick them up, one by one, 
and return them to where they belong