Baked loaves dangle in the window display,
Akhtar rolls and kneads and rolls and kneads
until it is flattened. Leavened. Straightened
and stretched to the nth degree. He lathers it with
butter, smooth silky yellowed glaze,
tossing it as he does. His labour of love is thrown
into the fire, embers licking its edges as it rises
and falls. Akhtar wipes the sweat off his brow.
He is an acrobat, a magician, a scientist
and an artist all rolled
Originally published at http://mysticmajor96.wordpress.com on September 19, 2020.