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P O E T R Y by Danielle Wong

WOMEN I KNOW Sustenance in Bread To my Mom

Flour flies on her face as she throws more onto the dough she kneads. With precision and imperceptible speed she packages the dough into bread pan after bread pan. She dances around the kitchen pulling out fresh bread from the oven and replaces them with new ones loaf after loaf kneaded packaged thrown in the oven pulled out of the oven. Flour flies and lands on the ceiling the floors in her hair. The last loaf finally baked she takes it out like all the other loaves. Bare-handed. Flour-handed. She smiles. We sit at the table, milk and brown sugar ready. She slices one loaf. She sits with us. After school treat. Maybe this feast will be dinner.