Bread for Poems

My new hobby is cleaning the Streets of Paris. Did you know Woonsocket is the Paris of New England?

I was out trimming my bushes this morning. It was quiet and the air was clean. I felt like I was giving the Tasmanian Devil a haircut.

My neighbor Eddie crossed the Street and told me a few jokes. We laughed our heads off, a great way to start the day.

Then he ran home to get three new poems he had written and read them to me. They were excellent.

I ran inside to get with one of my fresh baked baby breads, a sourdough wheat oat cornmeal bread with poppy seeds and sunflower seeds.

"Bread for poems," I said, handing him a loaf.