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"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Linda Conroy


Daily Bread

The blender buzzes, whirrs, chops
the solid squares of butter, folds in flour,
sugar, as I turn and turn the crank.

This afternoon is steamy, sticky and I choose
to be indoors, ordering the storm of kitchen work,
the back door open wide to beckon sweeter air.

I hear a trumpet call in swift arpeggio.
My nearest neighbor has a concert coming
and will practice now, with passion of the day.

I churn the blender; ponder on the mix of sound,
think of childhood lessons, the teacher pleading,
no, no, not an A. Place that note in harmony.

So much makes a memory, the dos, the don'ts,
the ways of family, wasteful recipes of doubt,
that well-learned muscle, strength of must.