BAXTALO POGACHA LUNARELA

(Bread Harvest, Lammas)

 

In days of old

Farmers and field hands

Scythed their way across fields

In failing light

Deities on clouds

Or today, flying drones

Would see what appears to be

Between the waving grain

Miniature Grim Reapers

Robes and coats flapping

Moon glinting off the

Sharpened tools

Harvesting the grain before fall

Romani working alongside

Land-owning farmers

And dogmatic villagers

Yet, grain was the equalizer for all

In this country, said my Gran

August 1^st was called Lammas

Although we just called it

Pogacha for bread

And Lunarela for Harvest

Luna means moon, I’d said

In my childish, show-offish way

Yes, but the important thing

Is to fill up your bags

With flour

Because nothing is more important

Than bread

But we need Vitamin C

I said

Having just read

Some whaling ship story about

Scurvy and limes

And protein like eggs and fish

Bread! Gran interrupted

All that you mention is true

But they are like decorations

On a Christmas tree

The Bread is the tree

Central to all our recipes

Bread fills the soul and the belly

Bread can be decorated

Like a tree

With meat or egg or jelly

Roll it around fresh blueberry

So today, we celebrate

By baking Pogacha

As for me, you see,

I am now older than Gran was then

But once again

I am baking Pogacha

From Rye and Whole Wheat

With slivers of almonds

Pressing round balls in

The flatbread maker

How marbleized they look

Crooked

Yet delicious

And I say

Thank you for the bread today

And most of all

May there be no one hungry

On this Earth…

Baxtalo Pogacha Lunarela!

 

© 2023 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE:  Crooked Flatbread