Very early in the day
my thoughts are like dough,
not the heavy lump of flour and fat
that makes a satisfying thud
when you slap it
on the counter
and keeps the impression of
your fingertips
and promises a delectable
covering for pies —
sweet or savory;
But, the stage of dough
when knobs of butter
stick to flakes of flour
and it all falls apart,
crumbling in your hands,
and you think:
This will never work,
but, since you can't think
you go on mashing the concoction
and if you knead long enough
the warmth from your hands
will soften the butter
and miraculously
the lump rolls out smoothly
and you laugh as you press the perfect golden circle
into the pie plate while you recite Pi
to the thirteenth place
and realize
you can think again.

Sandy Green has been published in Chicken Soup for the Child's Soul (HCI 2007), Anderbo, Poesia, Evangel, Highlights for Children, Houston Literary Review, joyful!, Pear Noir!, and Shalla. She is a 2008 nominee for Best of the Net. Currently, Sandy lives in northern Virginia with her husband and two children.