Ninety-Nine Cent Bread Again

“It’s cheaper here than across the street!” He cried with joy to everyone he’d

meet. To workers, strangers, aisle and air, He spread the truth

like a prayer. Ninety-nine cent bread reclaimed its place, Lit pure light across

his face. Through every mile his back had borne, Every quiet loss he’d worn,

He came back home, unbroke, unbent, For ninety-nine cent bread again.