Nothing Stays

It never speaks, but never leaves,It moves unseen through all we keep,It walks beside the hands we hold,And quietly changes what they mean.

We fight for the word “ours,”forgetting there was never an “our,”We name the moment as it blooms,while something in it slips away.

We live inside what we call “me,”never knowing to whom it belongs,until the warmth gives way to winter,and the name falls from the bloom.