The Poet as Baker

One of my rare serious poems to kick off 2014.  

 

I knead words.

Roll them, bend them, stretch them, mould them,

Break them, mend them, push them, hold them,

Be them – vital, raw – until

They open out and swell and spill

To fill a space once empty, wide,

Much larger than the words inside.

More complex, fuller, richer, rounder,

Brighter, life-filled, stronger, sounder.

I knead words.

Come, will you taste them?

 

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