This is you, the ever-winding mill

covered in a blanket of moss, faded with age

tickled by the tips of dried wheat

dunking hands into cold river water

for the power, the baker, his flour and bread

the sourdough that fills our stomachs to the brim–

the only thing I am ever hungry for–

sometimes on sale, never out of stock

always produced by the same, ever-turning mill

What will it be today?

Becky is a 2nd year in the Front Street Writers Class. She enjoys writing and developing her (rather impressive) aesthetic. She is currently a Senior at Mancelona High School. 2018