Daily Poem: Valley of Morning ~ Donald Hall
Valley of Morning
~ Donald Hall
Jack Baker
rises when
the steeple
clock strikes three
to shape dough
into pans
and wed pale
rising bread
to the fire,
trays shoved in
clay ovens
over wood
coals. After
the summer
sun touches
the church’s
steeple, he
pulls from his
bakestove two
hundred loaves,
crusted brown
with damp fire
inside. Now
the valley
of morning
wakes breathing
bread’s air, fresh
loaves for the
day’s mouth, for
meadow, lane,
and row house.
Bread photo from CreativeCucina.com
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