We stand in the old kitchen
On the white rustic floors
With cloth draped over the table
My tiny hands are ready

She gets the flour
As I stretch to get eggs
At the back of the fridge
My fingers slip
She saves it from behind
We laugh

We lower the mixer
Add the ingredients
I scoop a bit of batter into my mouth
She sees me but pretends not to notice
It makes me feel warm inside
Baking bread with Nana

I wait for the loaf to rise
We talk about things that we love together
Sports, food, and just life
The aroma of the perfect bakery fills the room
As I embrace the smell
And know it was made with love