Recipe Poem by Anne Higgins
Recipe
Yeast rises
like praise
clings to the cloth,
leaves its thready face there.
Dough rolls smooth
springs back
seamless in hand
as thought.
The oven opens and closes
its arms.
Smell seeps
from room to room.
Bread, as finished
as a child.
Every slice of the knife
it sings its fearful litany:
I live in the jaws of hunger.
I break as I give
I rise as I die.
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5/5/2024 3:59:06 PM # 1.0.0.1119
