Day 115 – The Baker

It used to be I could
pluck an apple from my garden:
any one
from any tree
would do

And it used to be I could
bake you a pie from that apple:
right quick
no questions
easy doing

But I’m finding lately
I don’t have as many apples
I can’t bake a pie as quick
as I once did

And I often find myself
ignoring the few apples I’ve got
wondering why they ever meant
so much

I know no one is waiting
on my pies anymore;
they’re starting to hurt
just to give

but what is a baker
who’s not baking
what is a voice
who doesn’t speak
what am I anymore

if not this?


Day 33 – Thursday Night Baker

She bakes on Thursday nights
for that little extra edge,
Friday’s last push.

She’s crawling through every week
towards that far-off finish line,
and like a child,
she works best
for sweets.

Some of the others have diets,
some have yoga, some have wine,
but whatever it takes, man,

whatever it takes.