the batch

poem by Ruth Salles

blackboard drawing by Verônica Calandra Martins

.

In the hands of the baker
already dance the flour
when being sieved
and well ventilated.

Adding water and salt,
then the yeast,
the dough forms
in a brief moment.

And the baker's hands
work light.
What strength he has!
Kneads so well!

The mass then
is put to bed.
In a very hot room
will rest.

what makes this dough
so sleeping?
'Cause it grows and it seems
who will even run away!

But soon the baker
take it in hand,
forming with her
the bread pans.

the firewood left
the heated oven.
light gray
the oven is swept.

And still the baker
works light:
in the oven already go
the bread pans.

what a good smell
comes from there!
Will the batch
ready will you be?

The buns, of course,
whisper softly:
- We are already at the point,
my good baker!

***