I remember the days of bread

I remember the days of baking bread.

Mom busy kneading

Loaves for a month.

Delicious muffins smelling of anise!

I remember that mom sat me

up on the bunks full of wheat.

Drawn crossed squares

Where we played at three in a row.

I remember the rain outside

Pitter-pattered on the slate roof top.

My hot and dry feet inside my clogs,

Wet when splashing puddles.

What I mostly remember

It's the smell of freshly baked brown bread,

The softness of Mom's worn apron, and

Her sweat running down from her forehead.

Spanish version: Recuerdo los días del pan

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