THE BAKERY
Often fairly late in winter this bakery
Across the way stays open, and one sees the bread
Circle with gold the shopgirl's curly hair,
The one who though unremarkable harbors
Oblique designs of womanhood and grows bored. And sometimes
The shop at this hour is empty; for the sole glory
Of bread it glows.
It's reason enough to give thanks I feel the shop's
Light by the street corner fairly late in winter.
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