Sofia's Bakery

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The village sleeps while a few coyotes
prowl and scuff through the alley
that passes for a dusty street.

They own the night. We are
only tenants here at the edge
of the desert; close by the river.

A light is on at the bakery,
as it is every morning in the
long hours before the first glow.

The coyotes are used to it. They
watch her quietly pass by each
morning as regular as the dawn.

Sofia is immersed in the day's
work. Everything is in its place
and ready from the day before.

The old oven heats; the chill fades;
flour in her hair; her morning routine.
Lumps become loaves or anise biscochitos.

The first oven smells are drifting
down the street before sunrise.
She stops for a drink of her coffee.

She likes her coffee strong and sweet;
flavored with cinnamon or cardamom.
She indulges herself at this hour.

Working alone, she enjoys this time of day.
She has a place here in this little village;
like the mortar between the stones.

She recalls her mother, with flour
in her hair, greeting the men on their
way to the fields with fresh bread.

She is ready for the day as she hears
the first sounds from the street.
She smiles and steps out the door.

*     *     *

2018 - The Home Place

 

 

Comments 4

 
Jane Phillipson Wilson on Friday, 18 May 2018 14:30

This was the first thing I read this morning and it will stay with me all day. Thank you.

This was the first thing I read this morning and it will stay with me all day. Thank you.
Ken Hartke on Saturday, 19 May 2018 17:04

Thanks...I hope it stayed in a good way.

Thanks...I hope it stayed in a good way.
Rosy Cole on Sunday, 20 May 2018 13:44

I just love this, Ken. As appealing to the senses as a painting. Thanks :-)

I just love this, Ken. As appealing to the senses as a painting. Thanks :-)
Ken Hartke on Sunday, 20 May 2018 15:58

Thanks, Rosy, -- glad you liked it.

Thanks, Rosy, -- glad you liked it.
Already Registered? Login Here
Guest
Thursday, 17 October 2019

Captcha Image

Writing For Life

We are a small, friendly community who value writing as a tool for developing a brighter understanding of the world and humanity. We share our passions and experiences with one another and with a public readership. ‘Guest’ comments are welcome. No login is required. In Social Media we are happy to include interesting articles by other writers on any of the themes below. Enjoy!


Latest Blogs

So there’s this cricket. He comes to visit every August, and he stays in the wall of my bedroom.  His living room seems to be the window frame by my ...
Yes!  I am ready. Finally cut the cord. Made that leap of faith.   When it’s right it will feel right. No explanation necessary. Walk away from...
    My thoughts are hazy. Sleep last night was interrupted.   A premonition of sorts? Maybe just a reminder of what needs to be done.   They...
"What do you mean, it's wrong? In ethics we learned that the truth is always subjective!" There can be no doubt that the teaching of correct wri...
In the South of France. Second time around, the love gets stronger! Thousands of miles away, her mind is able to switch off from reality. Her hear...

Latest Comments

Stephen Evans Anne Hathaway Remembers
14 October 2019
When I wrote this, I wonder if I knew that it was (almost) a sonnet:They say that he was good, but I...
Virginia M Macasaet Anne Hathaway Remembers
13 October 2019
Love this! So eloquent!
Stephen Evans Time to Sing
13 October 2019
My father sang all his life, very nice second tenor voice. He got a ukulele for Christmas once and ...
Rosy Cole Time to Sing
12 October 2019
Permission to sing is a wonderful thing, especially if you are raised in a family that, for strange ...
Ken Hartke This place
30 September 2019
A very late comment on an excellent post...thank you for sharing. Everyone has a sacred space that r...