Hunger

I was asked down to supper Brown bread and cheese With new home-made butter And freshly whipped cream I knocked on the door But I was afraid I looked through the window the table was laid The promise of evening To lift the day's woes The murmer of bees Giving honey at close In my dream I was inside where I had to go And I sat at the table For supper to show The little brown oven Had bread in this night I opened the door Which at first was shut tight The yeast was still rising The loaves slowly swelled I sat there for minutes Wrapped up in that smell. I folded my arms Now content to just wait And willing to accept What I found on my plate. A lazy breeze leaked Round the edge of the door And stirred up the dust Into swirls on the floor My stomach was turning Found a voice and it cried Despite all my hunger No supper tonight? How much do we need? What goes beyond our greed? Or is there no more to Just squandering our seed? If there is no heaven there can be no hell so what is this place Where such hunger does dwell? Anyone can be hungry When nothing's in hand But what is this craving When dinner is planned? I raised up my hand and saluted the night For her patron god hunger My knuckles were white. Retro me satanas I will not be made To steal from the table Where supper is laid. The light drifted slowly And settled on the floor Where the dust of a lifetime Had made it before.