Karim Uncle's Bakery

Sundays meant a pilgrimage, 

to Karim uncle's bakery.

loaves soft and white, 

with slight brown tinge over them,

looked like trophies, 

to be taken home.

The dough kneading machine,

rolled like a gigantic monster,

tied to a steel rod, 

and grunting his displeasure, 

in doing same work for hours even on a Sunday.

pieces of breads, useless crumbs, 

would attract dogs of the neighbourhood,

they would sit near the entrance of the bakery

like guards, 

watching over every visitor

to the site.