Sourdough starter

A remnant of a remnant
of flour, water, sugar, yeast
arrives from Hawai'i,
in Ziplock,
wrapped in plastic,
newspaper,
and stored in an old checkbox.

It looks and smells a bit sour.
If I didn't trust the sender,
warning bells would go off.

Squeeze it in a bowl,
add a cup of flour,
a cup of warm water,
stir, cover, and leave on the counter overnight.

Repeat the next day,
the next,
and the next.

The remnant expands and starts bubbling,
filling up a deep mixing bowl,
as dormancy ends,
like winter,
and new life begins.

The cloth cover begins to stick
to the side of the bowl.
The smell of sour diminishes,
as the bubbles intensify.

Finally, we use it.
Two cups of starter
with a little more water,
a bit more yeast,
sugar, oil, salt,
lots and lots of flour.

We mix it, and leave it to rise.
Punch it down and knead it some more.
In the oven, it bakes golden brown
and rises from a lump
to a loaf.

All that from a remnant
of flour, water, yeast, and sugar
that's twenty years old.