ancient ziggy in the bread dough

a poem by jennifer:

late night.
sweet bread dough awaiting transformation,
   into cinnamon rolls 
that will set upon the countertop to proof overnight.

i start to overturn
  the dough
to roll it out.
and stop.

do my eyes deceive me?  or is that an ancient ziggy in the dough?
it is.
and 
he was.

delicious.


cheers!