The staff of life

Baking was a favorite pastime; he

Relaxed as he kneaded

Each loaf, pressing and pulling

And pushing away what he

Dreaded the most: his ghosts.

Thank you, CFH.

Ground down

Anxiety, when it  

Takes hold, oh, will

Tear you down, will

Rub and wear

Insidious

Threadbare holes

In your soul. You

Own that friction; it’s

No one else’s fiction.

Thank you, Fred S.