There are places on earth
That carry the song,
The story of the common
Curious adventurers
Who've come
Who've gone.

There are miles of land
Upturned, destroyed
Tamed and revived
To house the inhabitants
Of a younger kind,
Timid eyed, though
Bolder in time.

There are streets filled
With a daily tide
Of do-wells, lookers,
And passers by
Who beat hides strung
Taught across habits
Long refined.

There are minds
Constantly eyeing
The time,
Buying ideas,
Borrowing lines
From the lyrics
Of the song
So peerless and fine
That drifts from the evenings,
Days, years of convening
Spirits
To the ears of you and I.

You hear it too,
Of course you do,
You're a note
Or a chord,
Or a melody true,
Crisp, settling into
This movement
To tell the next
Troupe
A little bit
Of me
Of you.