Day of Change

Lawrence Holofcener

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She blew at dust and spiderwebs

And flew up to her kitchen.

Steel-wooled the rust

And set upon the stove the odd appliance.

And on each side a slice of bread

With prayer and defiance.

Turned on the gas beneath it

And at the phone yelled-coming!

Her heart beat all a flutter

When the slices needed turning.

She deftly did the job

Without one slice or finger burning.

Oh thank you sir for waiting

Now she went and told the buzzing.

The salesman had hung up

While all that searching had engrossed her.

I don't need you anymore

I mean your micro-oven toaster.

Goodbye and thanks again!

She cried and went to fetch the butter.

And every morning was begun

A game of challenge, chance and fun.

To brown or burn the bread or bun?

She always, usually, mostly won

Each morning.





One day

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