Wanting Hunger

[*Pixie* Stix]

The only truth you know now is your hunger
growing wider as the season darkens.
And all the fasting and Hindu calisthenics
couldn't keep those inches off. The fat
adheres to you like cancer or a warm lichen
dependent on a tree trunk's insecurity
and unwilling to part.
Everywhere
you venture the mirrors whisper,
the pond's reflections resound your dolor.
The winter doldrums comfort the beasts
within all but yourself --
As you reach out
to gather more confections and sweet rewards,
As you attempt to fill an emptiness
not filled by the sun, as you wait
for your inevitable fall,
a small child
within you remembers: so, this, this
is the wanting ache I saw in Mother's eyes.