The Silent Loaves

The Silent Loaves

It's an old movie
from the 1950s
Famous actors
in a farce
about the daughter
of a private detective
who uses her father's files
to find and fall in love
with an older rake

The daughter tells her father
“I love you.”
He says
“I love you more.”

Ever since I saw that film
I can only think of people
to whom I want to say
“I love you more.”
They are my children
grandchildren
and best friends
who still support me

I was mildly shocked
to have someone with whom
I chat regularly say
“I love you.”
I said nothing

Somewhere
I am still a child inside
and I don't recall my parents
ever saying they loved me
until late in their lives
My mother once said
her own mother was cold
Hard Norwegians
Germans and Scots
immigrants
are my heritage

Emotion is often beat
out of people 
much as bread is kneaded
People become pliable
to the whims
of paymaster chefs
Bread pans form walls
that shape dough
People also get shaped
by hot walls of opinion
oppression and lack of opportunity
Many a poor chef forgets time
burning the bread

People get burned

I'm going to try
to say what I want to say
“I love you more.”
If I do
it's to thank you
for the love
you give so freely
It's my last soft crumb
inside a blackened crust
of a discarded silent loaf

Barry G. Wick