Flour dust coats my lens glass
Baker moves silent past
Oven glow paints the cracked yard
Footsteps counted never marred
Weeds swallow the rusted gate
Clock strikes three the hour late
Dough rises in tin bowls
Shadow stretches winter colds
Shutter counts each heavy tread
Flour snow on concrete bed
Night baker kneads the dark to bread
Dawn will find the crusts we shed
Lens cap clicks aperture wide
No flash needed moonlight guide
Hands dusted white rhythmic press
Kneading silence nothing less
Shutter counts each heavy tread
Flour snow on concrete bed
Night baker kneads the dark to bread
Dawn will find the crusts we shed
Shutter speed slows to breathe
Flour ghosts on wool sleeve
Count resets at morning bell
One more loaf one more shell
Backyard weeds drink spilled yeast
Rising crust a golden feast
Camera rests on splintered shelf
Documenting for itself
Negative strips dry in dawn
Footsteps faded night withdrawn
Baker sleeps the oven cold
Story developed frame by fold
Shutter counts each heavy tread
Flour snow on concrete bed
Night baker kneads the dark to bread
Dawn will find the crusts we shed
Shutter counts the count is read
Click wind done first snow falls
First snow settles on stone