THE TRIBE By Fiona Goodwin

I was frightened of you before I knew you
Strangers, in foreign lands
But you gathered round
We sang our songs 
About cars and lipsticks
We drank coffee, had lunch
Got friendly
Our world just got smaller.

Making Cecilia’s Irish Bread  
by Adrienne Parks

A traditional girl of Irish heritage,
herself a bread of Guinness Stout,
likes her loaf with a golden crust
from baking soda, buttermilk, and salt,

Instructions: bread flour, water, baking soda.
A bowl. Ingredients. Mix well.
Lift the edges of the soft dough out,
expertly sliding under Cecelia's sweet center out,
If necessary, dust gently. If not, proceed.
After the first rise is full, complete,
help it down by folding it over and back on itself.

Sometimes soda alone elevates the dough,
sometimes it needs help.
Perhaps a hint of barley brown
or honey to increase the tamp.
Add tiny currants or raisins to taste.
Introduce a dash more, whatever there is needed,
be creative, be not shy when working with Cecilia’s dough.
Never too much salt.
Too sweet?

Covered, uncovered, warm, draft-free,
leave fingers close by the second coming.
Never long, springs back.
Firm dry palms kneaded.
Soft, beguiling, supple, breathing.
Cecilia’s bread is always sighing
to what surely must be the second coming,
the basic rustic, artisan nutrients of love.
Enjoy thoroughly.
Too sweet?