I Bake America - Inspired by the "I, Too, Sing America" poems

If my life, my American life, was a table setting 

Laid out lovingly by all my ancestors. 

It would have the usual trappings: 

A garnish of good fortune, a pinch of the salt of stability, 

A hearty main course of love 

And freedom. 

But under a silver dome, to keep it warm and well 

There lies something concealed to most. 

A rich bread, baked in the desert centuries ago, flavored with milk and honey. 

I don’t always bring it out 

When preparing for new company, not sure if they’ll like it. 

But it is a braided and storied bread lasting through more 

Dark nights then even our people thought possible. 

It survived the long boat ride to a new shore in a new land. 

And as we’ve gone through our lives here 

Each generation adding a new  

American braid along the way. 

Now, present day, it rests 

Not always seen under its dome but part of me. 

My identity. 

My America.