There are landmarks in the distance
Places between you and me
A bar, a café, and old willow tree
There are no measurements to make
Just markers of faces and places
Some a casual observer just might miss.
Old culprit fate will change something
A new building a new waitress
And that will cause a little stress
Old faith in the natural laws will win
And new landmarks will form
There in the mist of chaos, the norm.
By Dave Schipper © 2010 Rose Riversongs