within the dough

the yeast
the leaven
will eat the dough

working it
from within

I
poor fool
have only hands
and fists

so I wait
for the bubble-rise

I wait
for the yeast
I wait
for an eruption
from the heart

and then I work
with a pounding
and I work
with a punch

I push
turn it over
and I fold it

knead it
with my knuckles
I knead it
and I wait

wait

I wait
for the yeast
that is within

~

Poem #521 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

5 thoughts on “within the dough

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