Marking their Territory

Why is it when they know that they will leave,

They claim they will stay?

They claim that will not join their long line of predecessors,

Who could not live up to the,

Unachievable, utopian hippy dream.

"We are coming back,

This is just until......

We are a part of this community."

Yeh sure.

And then before they go,

They have to leave some testament,

To their temporary habitation,

Of this place.

This time it is a mural on the local hall.

Last time,

It was artistic signs along,

An unused and unmaintained walking track.

Their names and those of their children,

Etched in acrylic paint.

Marking their territory,

Just as a wombat,

Neatly defecates on the tallest stone.