The Hunger Poem by LeeAnn Azzopardi

The silence of Sunday afternoon is golden
There's nothing absent about it
While we watch the snow fall
Without the taste of food or drink
The whiteness is hypnotic
And doze off with our stomachs growling
Not caring about anything but sleep
The grey skies echoing the lack of joy
We thought of watching the TV instead
But the chill from the outside wasn't inviting
So, we wrap ourselves into the comforter
And the lights turned off
As the afternoon becomes light
Among the twilight
We slept with the hunger