Thursday, April 13, 2017

Baker’s dozen


In the afternoon, a couple of days ago,

Just as it was starting to rain,

I planted some flower seeds. As a finishing touch,

I made some thumbprints in the dough.

When the bread is finished baking,

The sprouts will emerge through scented seams,

And quickly hide this poem.



5 comments:

Jan said...

These words are magical William...how do you do it~

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Jan. If they are, I think it’s due to a combination of luck and no good sense....

Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

The bread of life.

Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

The baker thereof.

William Michaelian said...

And enough to go around.