From memory

Other people, they come, they go;
And what then do I have to show
For all the people who have come,
And all the people who have gone?

A diorama of the mind
Where from time to time I find
Viewed through the peep hole of the past
A random Chaucerian cast

In vivid colours for a day
With whom I somehow get to play,
Who I presume to somehow know
For the short time before they go.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

We meet many people during our life time. Some will always be more colourful and memorable than others. Most disappear into the grey. Interesting poem. Caught my attention and made me reflect on a few I have known.

Chris

[John]

Many thanks for your thoughts.

[Chris Shaw]

You are welcome.