reached a threshold
not in the typical way
that boundaries exist
beyond those progressively
different state of affairs
It’s a blur or
was it a blurb?
like confusion
reaching
a boiling point
because it doesn’t
understand
that which doesn’t
scorch or
flash in the pan
“I don’t need your dough Benjamin,
I’m gonna burn it like toast,”
the buttery bosom said,
before churning
ashes into
damp earth
spun to
black gold
wait and see
the harsh winter
through
an eternity of
miles
down
a dirty rock road
riding
a stationary
bike
my heart
will
grow strong
my legs
stronger
still
to spring!
I
will
you
will
plant and
be fed
light and soft
pedaling is
knowing
when to
stop
kneading
the dough
to have just
enough
pockets of
air to sustain
a life
without
money
in excess
trapped heat
will rise
bubbles bust a
flowerless crust
rose broke
to the surface
distance created the difference
between you and I
vacant
moon
sold out
empty craters left behind
wane
in silence
wait and
wax
the gap to a
brilliant
shine?
for you and I, my friends
let’s hope
the warmth
on a mild low
gives faith to a
rich underbelly
within
void of
corruption
and chemicals
this radical hospitality
you soon may know
a slow boil
kept on a burner that
works
steadily
bringing home
bread
to share
heartily
scrape the plate
not to waste
the beauty of
coalesced ingredients
reduced
to bring out
the best of
all
flavors
a toast is made with homemade wine
©Tara Raye Russo 2014