Fragrance Poetry inspired by Journey Man by Amouage.
The smell of Sichuan peppercorns
are embedded in my clothes
from the season’s harvest.
I came home in time for the holidays.
Little red peppercorns hung on green leaves:
That was my early Christmas Tree.
You can say I live a spiced life,
travelling from one place to the next.
Sometimes, men feel the breeze on their face
and hear the call of the wild – for freedom.
I know the routine well,
when I walk through the door.
First, you’ll grab me in your arms.
Then, you’ll throw out my tobacco
And lay out a proper suit. . .
. . .And you’ll ask me to stay.
But, soon, it’s time to move on to the next harvest.
But I linger for a moment, thinking, this time I might stay.
After all, every man needs to start a new “Journey” sometime. . .