Strapped By Hunger
Strapped by hunger fly my hands
In airborne windmill mimicry,
In shapes of gulls above the dunes
Searching sands rapaciously;
For morsels fit to slake the beak
And quash the stomach agony,
The gastric fire flutters,
Burns alive with hurtful sanity.
They burden full of emptiness,
Denied of gruel or clemency,
My love miscarried in their wombs
To dark horizon mystery.
Away they fly, away, above
An ocean toiling hungrily,
And then no more, and so my love
Borne with them to uncertainty...
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005
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