Bakeries are evocative. They still send out the feel of home and the smell of yeast on the air. There's the crusty goodness and the reliability of sinking one's teeth into a staple food that nourishes the body and reminds the soul of family.
my auntie owned the bakery in the village my parents are from. the heat in the summer, the ice creams for breakfast. this poem speaks to me on that level. thank you
Rare is it for one to just sit and think. Rarer still is the appreciation, which is why we must keep it alive. Shukran for doing so in a beautiful fashion
Bakeries are evocative. They still send out the feel of home and the smell of yeast on the air. There's the crusty goodness and the reliability of sinking one's teeth into a staple food that nourishes the body and reminds the soul of family.
I’m a baker. Thanks for this inadvertent shoutout.
Much love !!
my auntie owned the bakery in the village my parents are from. the heat in the summer, the ice creams for breakfast. this poem speaks to me on that level. thank you
Rare is it for one to just sit and think. Rarer still is the appreciation, which is why we must keep it alive. Shukran for doing so in a beautiful fashion
🙏🏽🌟
At one point people might realize that they can't eat their phones. Hopefully there are some bakeries left then, however, a pill might do...
The place that fed me is now feeding the spirit is a gorgeous line. Thank you for sharing