HUNGER 

There's not much food on the shelves, he says.  I say, 
I will go tomorrow. 
                                    Today, 
I only want a certain absence, simple breathing, wrapping 
the body close.  Not even the small gray blur of the 
hummingbird.  Just this yard, this chair, and the breeze, 
if it must. 
                         In the corner of the patio, cacti know 
the strength of stillness, no leaves to rustle, just 
the spare dry heat of hunger. 
 

Copyright 2000, Susan Field 

Recently moved to the West Coast from New Jersey, Susan Field has had poems published in the Spoon River Poetry Review, US. 1 Worksheets, and the Piedmont Literary Review, among others.  She is also an artist whose work has been featured on the covers of The MacGuffin, The New Jersey Review, and Without Halos. 

Switched-on Gutenberg/Vol. 4, No. 2