The Baker

Last night was Hashemoto’s last gig in Canberra for a while, and they asked some people to read poetry. I was one of those readers, and this is one of the poems I read for the crowd:

 

The Baker

 

Every night I bring the moon along the hall

Into the room where she lays, waiting for me

Sleeping soundly, but the latch will wake her

And we’ll couple gladly.

 

In the morning, frozen sheets, and ruffled

I awake alone, and stretch. The sun is risen

And so do loaves; in every corner of my house

Expanding t’ward the ceilings.

 

I will not lift the covers, to check the grain

Or break my fast; the scent will fill my lungs,

And today like all my days, I fill myself with

All her giving.