Kevin Hull - Hunger

A gallon jug of homebrew
has soured in the cobwebs
under the ancient bed.
A banjo lies busted in the lost.

Late at night he leaves the tomb
and returns to a shattered world,
humming 'Wildwood Flower' -
cherries falling in the rain.

'Seems like it's all been a dream, '
he whispered. And was gone.
Who can say what he embraced?

Mother stood alone
beside his plot of ground,
calling down one miraculous rose,
waiting in the charity of her silence
for the blossom to fall.
Who can say?

Even now he crosses the fields,
singing to himself an anonymous world in repose.

Kevin Hull

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hunger-62/