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Raising Bread
by
Diane Lee Moomey


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First this: winter wheat,
whole wheat, hard wheat;
grind fine.
Honey, butter, water.

           Yeast.

Then rolling, thumping,
live dough humping
beneath the fingers.

           The yeast.

Soft ball, buttered ball,
buttered bowl, tea towel atop,
white towel atop, the warm kitchen.
You did your part.

           Go away.


Yeast does not need you now. Go,
do a crossword, wash the dishes,
wash the dog, wash your hair.
Don’t come back till boozy air
drifts up the stairs, seeps
beneath the bathroom door.

Pummel again, make loaf,
cover.

           Go away. Yeast
           will do the rest.


© by Diane Lee Moomey.
Used here with the author’s permission.

 

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Post New Comment:
Mary Lou Taylor:
Good going, Diane.
Posted 10/26/2018 06:59 PM
barbsteff:
Outstanding! This poet has baked a lot of bread.
Posted 10/22/2018 03:13 PM
Jancan:
A VERY creative, lively recipe! Janice
Posted 10/20/2018 06:32 PM
cork:
When my bread is rising, I set the timer and go play Scrabble.
Posted 10/20/2018 09:37 AM
wordartdjc:
Yes, I am a baker. We must have patience as noted. but oh the wonderful smell of the newly baked bread and that first slice, heaven! .
Posted 10/20/2018 09:23 AM
Larry Schug:
Fantastic! Baking bread is a Zen experience captured so very well with these words.
Posted 10/20/2018 07:16 AM


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