Cityscape

Salt

I’ve lost the flavour

Of mundane adventures,

Forgotten their candid zest 

The same way the elders 

Lose the taste of salt on their tongues:

Progressively.

Time 

Is easy to walk through.

The road is straight ahead 

To everywhere.

Dirt crumbles beneath my wrinkled feet,

Reminiscent of yesterdays 

Lost in the stream of todays,

And tomorrows

Lost in the horizonless descent of somedays. 

Some days, the light flickers

And sight is obscured by darkness

Generated by energies lost in space:

Astronaut cries no one has ever received.

My barren branch hands

Claw at the sky,

Forming birds nest homes

That hatchlings shall never inhabit,

Claw at eagle winged counterparts 

Ravished by wanderlust,

Become a selfish hero

Cutting feathers for hats

To be worn 

Atop shimmering heads 

Stripped of protection,

Craving for elusive warmth. 

Salt from tongues 

Fall down cheeks instead,

And I 

Swallow unfamiliar exploits

Told from memory,

Attempt to recall paths 

Upon which my eyes have lingered

Before they old film reel fade 

Into scratchy spaced forget,

Before cheeks are drenched with salt

For reasons I am unable to recall.