Bread, finally

finally, the mornings are cool.

I smell yeast, rising bread as I descend the stairs

and the kitchen is warm, in spite of the cool

breeze blowing in from the back yard.

thank god for fall.

he slides the Dutch oven in and sets the timer

(which he never seems to hear).

when I come downstairs later scrounging 

for a snack, I come across this fine dense loaf.

finally, fall.  finally, fresh bread again.