Written for day 9 of the PAD challenge. A "slow down" poem.
there's time, yet, while the
bread-dough rises, to stop
and speak, your words
metrical in their efficiency...
oh, that I could blur
their clipped edges with
my fingertips,
no shame in slowing that
engine down to a low
roar, our words reappearing in
the air, held aloft as
dandelion spores, there
for us to savor their
meaning during this
drift and pull along
suburban sidewalks brisk
with activity, as the
dough doubles, only to
be punched down for kneading,
time yet, whilst it bakes,
to have some talk of this
or that
but no, and so,
a floured hand is grasped goodbye
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