11/5 and 11/6



11/7
Recipe for Bread on a Lazy Afternoon
Awake from afternoon slumber
Next to the one
Who encompasses your love
Lay, breath, soak in the warmth
Move slowly, from the bed
Cookbook in tow
Yeast spooned into the
bottom of the big white bowl
Water warmed, poured, swirled in
To sit until bubbling
Bring in clothes from the line,
Fresh, aired, dry
Mix in the others
Flour, Oil, Water
Knead on flour surface
Muscles pushing, punching, rolling
Floured surface moving
Across your hands, arms, shirt.
Wait to rise
Pause, sit, glass of tea
Next to the vase of flowers
Brought by a friend.
Yann Tiersen on the Piano
Flour, yeast, sugar,
Meeting, breathing, growing,
In their own time
Autumn sun will set early,
Stilling time, breeze, place
11/8

Letter to the Former Owner of the Home at the Estate Sale
We drove to your house today
My husband and I
Though we’ve never known you
The dog stayed in her crate in the car
Nervously hoping we would return
We walked past your gardens and boxes
Dead and ready for the winter
I imagine you had years of great harvest
Vegetables, herbs, and flowers
Planted and weeded with care and art
It was beautiful laid out and planned,
With a wicker-arch entry way
We walked into your personal history
There were others there
Dividing your earthly goods among themselves
Carrying them out,
Pieces of your life adjoining to their own
The wallpaper, throughout your house
Was a relic to your decades in one space
Bright and cheery, put up by hand
Prints that cannot be bought today
I imagined you standing back and gazing
At your hard work, wiping your brow
To smile at a job well done
Or walking through your house
Room to room, admiring a place turned home
Like I have done in mine
I won’t ever know you
Or what ended your era here
When it became obvious that it was time
To let go of this place you loved so long
Planting your life and memories
Alongside your garden seeds
Evidence of your life moments were scattered:
Music you loved next to the record player
Out of their protective sleeves, for quicker use;
A room full of jars for preserving
Food and hope through the long winter nights
Paintings among paintings by others and yourself
Old metal roller skates, adjustable to grow
As your children had grown
High school yearbooks
Scraps of fabric for quilting and sewing
Dresses hand sewn, missing their sleeves
I just wanted to thank you
For letting me walk through
The place that held your life and days
Admiring the beauty and creativity
You cultivated in your daily happenings
I bought your garden book,
Some wax to make candles,
Art work of which we have similar taste
I almost bought jars for canning
But my arms were too full
My husband got your stapler gun
To help in his work shop
As we build this life of our own
Afterwards, we left and took the dog
Side-by-side to the lake which
You must have walked to
Side-by-side so many times
Next to bare trees and bright sun
Coming off the lake











