Pavement tastes very much
Like dirt and dirt tastes
Like nothing else
Except pavement, now
That I've made the comparison.
And thought my dirt tasting
Days were long, long ago
It's a taste I'll always
Remember and detest.
Pavement I've tasted
Several times, always in
An involuntary way.
First was when gravity
Took hold of my tricycle
And my face met the road.
Then a step up as I fell
Down riding a two wheeler
Foolishly racing on slippery
South Hill in our little
Town, where risk taking
Was encouraged and a part
of growing up. But a road
Doesn't taste any better for
The risk and blood doesn't
Add pleasant seasoning.
Later, during darker times
A dirty sidewalk became
A place to sleep until I could
Move without falling
And that pavement, even
With its layers of flavors
Garbage and wine and vomit
Still tasted like dirt while
It felt like comfort, yes like
The solace of nowhere else to go.
And yesterday when I saw the
The kid's pant leg get caught
In the bicycle chain and send
Him face first to the blacktop
I could honestly tell him
I knew how he felt
And how the road tasted.
