The baker crawled inside his oven
to test his faith. Or so he told me.
It was deadly dark and hot with that heavy door
shut tight behind him.
Too dark and hot for his idea of Jesus,
he was afraid. I chose to take his word for it.
After he finished his cautionary tale
we shared a loaf of bread out of the same oven.
I watched closely how he buttered it.
He was a god with a knife.