My camera clicks on cobblestone cold
His apron worn, the fabric old
Dough rises in the oven's gold
Snow falls soft on stories told
Yeast wakes slow in deep copper bowls
Rough hands know the weight of souls
We don't speak but both understand
Quiet warmth moves hand to hand
Flour and frost on midnight air
Two strangers caught in silent prayer
Crust and crumb to start the day
Warmth lingers when the night gives way
Shutter catches dust in oven light
Fingers brush a cooled steel knife
Breath makes clouds in yellow glow
Neither asks the other why
Yeast wakes slow in deep copper bowls
Rough hands know the weight of souls
We don't speak but both understand
Quiet warmth moves hand to hand
Flour and frost on midnight air
Two strangers caught in silent prayer
Crust and crumb to start the day
Warmth lingers when the night gives way
My film roll ends at dawn's first gray
Baker wraps a loaf in paper
Camera hangs on leather strap
Footprints melt on cobblestone map
The oven cools but hands stay warm
A stranger's gift, a steaming form
No photograph can hold this heat
No caption fits what words can't meet
Just flour and frost on worn concrete
Flour and frost on midnight air
Two strangers caught in silent prayer
Crust and crumb to start the day
Warmth lingers when the night gives way
Bus ticket burns in my denim deep
Loaf tucked close against my chest
City wakes to grinding cold steel
Two quiet souls forget the rest
Flour and frost on midnight air
Two strangers caught in silent prayer
Crust and crumb to start the day
Warmth lingers when the night gives way
Flour and frost, we start the day
Flour and frost on morning air
Shutter clicks, the bus is there
