Thyme Past

How thyme has changed

from the dry, woody,

intense branches I used

so sparingly, cropped on some

Mediterranean shore, the

smell of it slinking

far out to sea, scrying

lost land for lost men,

perhaps heaped on the

pyres of those lost but

found too late, masking

burnt flesh with

sharp sweetness.

 

But now I have greenery,

something fresh but faint, a

shadow on the palate, an

echo of thyme past.

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Comments

  • RepressedSoul  On October 4, 2014 at 10:33 pm

    Very clever play on words and what better a memory jogger than the scent of thyme

    • fridayam  On October 4, 2014 at 11:29 pm

      Though as my poem says, it is less redolent now 😉

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