Feast

I see the bone-white tree with its yellow leaves,

and my tongue salivates. I swallow

and my stomach curls up in contentment.

I breathe and my heart grows warm.

I eat of this tree, this free feast

until I am nearly full.

The Artist of this culinary masterpiece

smiles through it,

and I leave a little room left

for this is only the appetizer,

and one day I will feast

on what now would make me burst.

Published by Hannah Kennedy

Hannah is an old lady at heart, with a deep love of yarn and floral patterns. She has curly hair, she is a lefty, she googles everything, and her favorite color is blue. She can usually be found reading everything from nineteenth-century fiction to modern psychology, doing yoga, dragging out chores to fit the podcast she's listening to, or watching The Office with her husband.

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