And her hopes will rise like dough
But in light of a recent quake
Thoughts float like powder snow
Her dainty toes leave prints
Both flimsy and abstract
Though rising dreams grow firm
Not daring to look back
Conversing with the earth
The pastry listens low
Her heart quivers in time
With raindrops trickling slow
The breeze floats back a whiff
Of joys baked deep and deep
She seeks the sugary high
Of which the wise ones speak
Inside her, warm and sweet
Sits cooling on the sill
In time the baker learns
She’ll always have her fill
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