And pass and pass and pass.
Gone. One Art. All lost.
Momentous, flown.
Trivial, slipped.
Life changing, evaporated.
Precious few are able to evaporate.
Apartments and loves and
first dates. Passed.
Rainy walks and childhood
friendships and a Mickey Mouse
rhinestone hair clip. Passed.
Figure drawing. Linear Algebra.
Modern Shakespeare.
Passed passed passed.
What is left when all has passed?
More passing. Only this.
Which, too, shall pass.
The details are so striking and pulled me into the poem, sending me time traveling. Such a true sentiment. Thank you for sharing this.