A building sits upon the corner
and silently watches over.
An occasional glance from the crowd
is all the time it gets.
Our lonely box is thinking
upon the nature of space;
it occupies quite a bit
but people keep walking through.
And time it is more fickle
since our building here just sits.
Time to it is but memories captured
by those that simply pass.
It is not easy standing still
as the joints become less sturdy.
For one day comes which sees a change
when what’s old comes young again.