Come and Go

The people come
The people go
And where we are, I cannot know,
But lazy circles in lazy rooms
With ceiling fans
And waxing moons. 

And this is it,
A hundred years
In lazy motions, round and round.
The people come
The people go
And drift away without a sound. 

For twenty years
I have been
And eighty more before I go
But where I was
And where I am
I cannot know, I cannot know. 

It is this it,
The hazy world,
With fire-ice and stillness-flash
And sand-lit coasts
And your smile,
Sharp and warm like greenhouse glass? 

I was nothing,
Will be again,
A hundred years a flash in the night.
I drift apart,
I drift away,
And something never felt so right.