Love and Warm Toast

Love and Warm Toast


The breeze that blows across the field

Carries the scent of various wild grasses

Feral flowers and the cereal farmer’s gold




The miller with his cool and calloused fingers

Shall fashion and form

Each golden husk into breakfast




Reminding me of my mother as a young woman

Many years ago now but always

Smiling and smelling of love and warm toast