At the Bakery

Cinderella bakery, run down at the heels—
     Glazed checkered tiles,
Faded pink front, brittle lace curtains
     Hiding the pastries inside.

A woman of sizeable girth greets me,
     Wrapped in an endless apron;
Standing between us, a white display case
     Filled with edible items.

Watching foot traffic through the curtains,
     Soaking up the old country...
Layers of light gauze wrap around me,
     Binding my limbs to my body.

©2016 Michael Fraley

Back to Poem-O-Rama