Landmarks

A ledge that overlooks the concrete dew
And the distant, lampless fields
A place where the meddling curious
Can find a few names etched
A place that diverts the temporal burdens
Rolling around the edges of Eli's thoughts

An old and distant Nana
Her feeble eyelids awaiting their deadline
In an aging homeland where
Life is less coveted than youth
Others are bound to gain
What they believe matters most

But some have their landmarks,
The sights of a peerless view,
A place to see a name,
An unbroken hour to realign;
Acknowledging the pacifying stillness,
They voice their marks on stone