Covid Baking
Like so many,
she decided to bake bread.
A forgotten skill
from her hippie days
when beer and bread
were the only necessities.
She found her old cookbook,
it opened up to so many memories
as grease-stained and ragged
as its pages.
She knew the kneading
was what she needed now,
the dough a glistening ball
so active and alive.
6 thoughts on "Covid Baking"
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What a beautiful poem! It works so well — the symbolism of the bread and the juxtaposition of the time periods.
There’s something about getting your hands in dough and kneading that feels really good. Plus the end product takes wonderful! Nicely done.
Thank you both!
I like the picture of grease-stained memories.
Try French bread next. It’s fun too. Love your poem.
Lovely images and love the word play of knead and need