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Mary Frederick Ahearn

Half a Loaf

…they say is better than none, well, we shall see.  I made the soda
bread today, halving the recipe, but keeping the full  cup of caraway
seeds and currents.  The way you liked it.  Perhaps  too much for one,
never for two.

                                                  love lingers
                                                  in full measure
                                                  just around
the corner

It’s the first time I’ve made it since you died.  There, I said it, half
to myself, half to you.  As it baked, the Chieftains’ music swirled
about and you were there too, dancing with me in the warm kitchen,
waiting for the bread to bake, and the music to end.  We would have that
good Irish breakfast tea and a slice of still warm bread, spread with
lots of butter.  A kiss, a smile until the kitchen cools at last.

our merry music
softly fades away
this letting go

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About the Author

Mary Frederick Ahearn lives in Pottstown, Pennsylvania. “Writing is a great joy to me, and with it, the interaction with wonderful poets from all over the world. Reading, photography, and being out in the natural world are delights and solace for this introverted soul.”