The heft of wooden rolling pin
boxed for the charity shop
pardoned at this eleventh hour.
When did you last
scoop a hollow in cool
flour, stir in water, egg?
Cut cold lard, crossways
with fork and knife to
the size of peas.
Flatten with the palm of your hand
on a lightly floured surface.
Hold your breath
for the first fragile passes.
A quarter turn, another.
Another.
Roll out from the middle
tensing for the final lift.
Breathing your fear that
the centre will not hold.
………….
Johanna Antonia Zomers is a former farmer, a playwright with Stone Fence Theatre and writes a weekly column for a Canadian newspaper. Her first novel “When the Light Enters” was published with Pastora de la Vega Press. Her poetry has been published in The Blue Nib, A New Ulster, Poetica and The Eganville Leader. She is at work on her second novel and a collection of essays.
As a regular pie maker, I will think of your poem often. Pastry can bring so much happiness, but not everyone thinks they can do it. But we all can. Stay well.