bring me bread

bells on the door ring.

she lets me in early, off the cold street.

pulling me in, she twists the lock back in place.

i blow into my cupped hands.

speaking in imported tongue, she takes my wrists,

burying my hands underneath her armpits.

 

Satisfied, she returns to her work.

hard work,  handy work,  artwork.

she sings, moans and sighs to her own rhythm.

 

i sit and watch her brilliance in the dawning light.

she sweeps a chuck of long black hair behind the ear,

that falls from her hair bun across her face.

.

flour freshly brushes her cheek,

full breasts bounce and sway beneath her apron,

back and forth she dances.

the smell of yeast lingers; dough rises,

bringing me increase along with her.

 

aware of my stare, she glances a Mona Lisa smile from the corners of her dark eyes.

 

delicate fingers breaking eggs with purpose and skill.

small deliberate fists

punch and fold,

stretch and toss,

weave and twist.

italian, french, round breads, rolls, buns,

topping some with sesame and poppy.

sculptures fashioned and placed on the wooden peel,

polished with a wipe of butter.

sliding loaves in and out; the furnace chars.

its surface blackened,  worn,

achieving grace and pride.

the bread she pulls comes out perfectly every time.

 

a large wooden butcher block and marble counter

hide her from the waist down.

but for a moment, she decides to give me a better view.  

her full bounty sashay across the foyer to unlock the door,

she flips the ‘open’ sign against the glass.

I’d buy all her bread today if she’d turn that sign back to ‘closed’.

 

today she is the baker.

once she was the baker’s wife.

tomorrow i will be the baker

and she will be the baker’s wife again.

 

William Edward Teague, 2012

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[John]

It reminds me of Matthew Arnold's Dover Beach, a poem about the assignation between two lovers told with a similar economy of language. What gives the poem its tension is the suggestion of an illicit relationship between the speaker and the baker's wife, his keenness and her flirtatious behaviour. The mood darkens, i think, in the last stanza with the suggestion that the woman has been widowed in order to further the relationship.

[William Teague]

Sorry for such a delay. Thank you John and you hit it right on, about the ending.

[William Teague]

Well I mean the fact that she is widowed, and the speaker is ready to step in; into her life now.

[William Teague]

Inspired in part, by the Bakers wife scene in the novel Castle Keep, by William Eastlake.