Posts Tagged ‘rising’

.   .    .    (from 1979)


Warm obedient flesh,

this sleeping dough

goes in where I push

and out where I pull

and folded

melts into itself

stretching dreams to gluten

on the floured board.

It wakens

and I start to rise

from hidden realms

that no eyes

will ever know

but yours.


©  1979,  2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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