Maybe it’s contamination.
Maybe, invisible redemption.
The unseen element transforms all the same.
Sometimes, a necessary ingredient.
Or always.

In the end,
bacterial motion
breaks all life forms down
as the essential back-to-earth movement.

My wife Rachel respects how it works.
Making yogurt.
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
or stirring
and then waiting.

A culture
as the origin of culture
and everything that means.

To continue, click here.
Copyright 2008, 2014
Poem originally appeared in Plum Ruby Review


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