Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Rising

for Writers' Island March 11, 2008
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

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.

7 comments:

paisley said...

oh linda... that was absolutely delicious... i savored every morsel
......

Crafty Green Poet said...

this made me hungry, it also made me want to try making bread...

tumblewords said...

Oh, wonderful. Tasty and evocative!

UL said...

I long for a slice myself...you make it sound so...mmm!

Jo said...

This is very tender and sweet.

freesherry said...

that poem was so different.. the style so unique.. i just loved it

giggles said...

Amazing....I can taste it! Nothing better than home-made bread....Next you must make the cinnamon buns!!

Hugs Sherrie

Linda's Poems