One

by Jonel Abellanosa

To be closer to his material, flour.
Trial and error taught him to layer,
Taught him to crisp or soften surfaces.

Pages prodding try the pita, grissini, Stollen,
Zwieback, try new forms, flavored crusts,
Hues of black forest, brown, gold.

Shaping finger rolls like painting
Inscapes, hand movements hypnotic,
Inward rolls rhythmic .

Baguettes lengthen his meditations.
He braids concentration like Challah,
Sprinkling poppy seeds on plaits.

Cottage, Vienna, fruit, farmhouse
Loaves.  Each croissant like a face
He loved.  Self-portraits of wheat, rye.

Imagining the peel in his powdered hands,
Visualizing larger fire, basil and garlic
Filling the room with changed air

Spreading marmalades of recall
On toast: aroma of the father imago –
Why he became artificer of dough.

This morning, before the painters arrived,
He tried his self-taught measure on pan de sal.
One failed to rise to the desired size

Yet no other held longer his
Rumination to his artistic flaws,
No other point angled the interior light.