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Monday, April 1, 2013

Poem for the day


Cinderella Demonstrates Crepes at the Mall

It’s all  in the temperature
of the soul, the mind, the wrist
but most of all timing,
The tune you dance to.

Break the eggs,
one at a time
admire
their perfectness,
the gold yellow,
how it can spin into a life;
the pure white of a gift-spirit.
And milk.
Ah, the kindness
of cream.

Flour is what
 holds
 in the whole
goodness.
Slide onto the heated
heart
to twist
flip a little plate
of thin life
 sweet
or savory.
What such simplicity has wrought.

Ruth Moose

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