Sourdough

This old farmhouse kitchen
could tell its thrifty tales
of hard times, making do,
making bread from nothing –

snatching life out of air…
Snatching life out of air,

she turns wheat and water
to ferment by the stove,
and molds it with her hands
into tart, golden loaves.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace