Reminiscing

My First Job

I remember walking into

its yeasty sugary warmth

an embrace

like an affectionate

overweight aunt

smothering in

honey-dip perfume

confections powdering

our poly pink smocks

sturdy white nurse’s shoes

sticky behind the cases

of donuts, danish, jelly rolls

raspberry, fig and lemon squares

loaves of French and Vienna

rows of toll house and oatmeal.

Out back where Saturday’s

beans and brown bread

emerged from enormous ovens

and dough mixers churned

the white-hatted baker

expertly piped Happy Birthday

Karen or Nancy

with a pastry bag spout

before handing back the cake

with a wink.

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