It's so strange
that I'm just passing through
but everyone here
has made memories.
I see through the eyes
of a little girl,
who went to her friend's house.
They were sisters.
I see through the eyes
of an old woman.
Generations after her,
a child and her child.
They were sisters,
but then one left.
"Daughter, I'm sorry.
We're leaving.
Your sister is leaving too."
Her tears could have
filled a bucket.
But I'm just passing through.
My memories are elsewhere
in my head.
Maybe I'll just settle here.
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