Jo Barbara Taylor
Old Spice

Baled
hay,
scent of
fresh cinnamon rolls,
drifts across fields, gravel roads.
In a heavy earthenware bowl yeast gives life
to flour and water, butter binds the dough together, ripe spice provides personality.

The aroma of Ceylon cinnamon, antique, mysterious, crawls across the floor, up walls.
In a near field horses neigh for hay.
Fresh baked breakfast rolls cool.
Who says hay
isn't sibling
with
cinnamon?