alex sarich (9/9/51 / Swansea. Wales. UK)

Homemade bread fills an open coal fireplace
moulded effigies of yeast congregate on the open hearth,
some scatter onto a cold tarred floor, warmed by an
over-spill of cabbage water from the kitchen,
which soothes the small boys soaking chilblains through
colander socks from the only heat source away
from the fireplace. Moss an anorectic frizzy sheepdog
whines as the queue gets longer.

His Father stood in the doorway stinking of garlic
with a blood stained apron hanging from his thick
sweaty frame, his voice echoed across the
stone slabbing and bare bashed walls.Frightened
but not stirred the boy joins the others at the table
resuming the shared duty of scavenging for whatever
cabbage leaf water (soup to them) was available,
so comforting his fear temporarily while
dipping and dunking torn chunks of bread.

Nov 2011