Flavours

The unwashed 'they' are dreamers,
full of sweetness and light,
overflowing with smiles
and candy-coated proclamations
that life is good and free.

I turn, look back down the weary road,
dust-devils blow my footprints
into the air. The dust glints in the sun
then settles on the brown roadside grass.

There is only history in this passing
and it is all recorded in my bones,
the bitter winter winds, the sour
summer leaves spoiling in the soil
and the salty adventures overdone.

But for all of that, there remains
an overpowering flavour that lingers
on the tongue as I trudge onward.
'They' often speak of it in songs,
It is sweet, it is warm and light.
I keep it with me at all times.