An Acquired Taste
The old man dreams of lace covered utensils
slowly excavating moistened coffers.
Searching for the drought of complacent wonder
He tools his eyes, forgiven by winds of
stuttering perception.
The taste of what is beyond reach,
an unforgiving spice; rapping hard
upon his weathered palate.
Senses bound by the slow tick
of time's endeavor numbs,
making the fruit of today's climb
cheap in the arms of tomorrow.
"If I had only.." he says.
"If I only had done more,
had more.."
Happiness is an acquired taste.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
Copyright © James Kelley | Year Posted 2014
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