Future Food

The seeds of my fear became a field of future food,
what I was afraid of is now the only thing that will keep me moving.
The voices and tunes in the ground climb their way up to be blown away with the wind, it sings; don't make a sound.

Don't make a sound.

Hunger

I got up to make you something to eat
You were swimming in the pond by the time I got back

Dinner's ready!

You were trembling when you rised from the water
I picked the leaves from your hair
While you picked from your bowl
I am not hungry, you said.