we drop

we in transit along busy streets 
we skip known thoughts 
and other unknown 

we see faces 
some off
some on
some laughing some crying some screaming
and we go 

we watch the city passing by, concrete towers
we overpass junctions and crossroads
and we enter immission lanes
 and then immense spaces forests and plains
 fields lost in these suburbs of the world
 and we go 

we go 
 we bring things 
we carry ourselves across from beginning to end
we deliver what we have to
we take what we are given
 and we go

we go 
 we are so small 
we are so fragile
 we are like a pumice stone
but so little we can save of this fragile and precarious way

through the sieve of time thoughts are lost
things we have not said 
tears and smiles 
and yet we go 
we go 
we are so small 
we are so fragile 
we are not the drop that will fill the bucket  
today

 Marco Bo 
http://cantidallaperiferiadelmondo.blogspot.bg/2015/10/siamo-la-goccia.html