Maybe it’s contamination.
Maybe, invisible redemption.
The unseen element transforms all the same.
Sometimes, a necessary ingredient.
In the end,
breaks all life forms down
as the essential back-to-earth movement.
My wife Rachel respects how it works.
And then bread, in endless varieties.
Especially the wild sourdough.
Beer lagers and ales.
Wines and whiskey.
(The brewery and bakery are neighbors.)
It’s largely a matter of kneading
and then waiting.
as the origin of culture
and everything that means.
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Copyright 2008, 2014
Poem originally appeared in Plum Ruby Review