A trail of vagabonds
Traveling along, each with a tale of their coming alongs
Called life, what you've done
There's experiene at the next light.
And I find myself in some small place
What I just call a minor day
A delay, is a town
Another field of experience.
Stretching back, happening now, and destined to happen
A unique place with exact position and condition.
Nothing special to me but who am I to say?
The faces and all the places seen today, show something differerent
A reverent place, a home with past and grace
Because even here experience lasts
People, things, happenings, come and go
Sadly there are many things I'll never know.