Rising

for Writers' Island March 11, 2008
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The corner store
ran out of the homemade
wheat bread
that my husband likes
so I decided
to make a loaf
for him.

I got a big bowl
out, the beige one
with the blue stripes
around the outside.
I added whole wheat
flour, sugar, salt,
yeast, honey, olive oil,
and water just warm
enough to feel warm.

I washed my hands,
took off my wedding
rings, and dove in,
mixing that gooey mess
until it was dough.

Then I floured
my counter top
and kneaded
and kneaded
that living heart
turning it into satin.

I took a clean
dishtowel and draped
it over
to let it rise
in the warm, humid
kitchen.

After an hour
I punched it down,
rolled it to fit
the loaf pan,
covered it again,
and let it rise
a second time.

When it crowned,
I put it in the oven.
There it rose
a third time
and turned golden,
its scent
permeating
our whole house,
our whole lives.

I sliced it
while it was still
hot and we
ate it,
butter
melting down
our chins.