This isn't a poem
about the awesomeness
of kolache
A time honored
time tested
beloved family recipe
enjoyed generation
after generation
around the holidays
This is a poem
about the oven
I baked it in
that until recently
had been quite finicky
but with one cheap part
and my handy hubby
is now working
perfectly
just in time
to enjoy kolache
(now if only
I could get
that seem to stop splitting
but that problem
is also a part of the tradition
for everyone)
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