A Food Poem for Sunday Morning

The poetry of Linda Pastan, like that of Billy Collins, has been described with a faint note of scorn as "accessible," by certain literary snobs.  I love accessible--eat it up, in fact.

I sing a song
of the croissant
and of the wily French
who trick themselves daily
back to the world
for its sweet ceremony.
Ah to be reeled
up into morning
on that crisp,
buttery
hook.

Linda Pastan

(Poem found here: http://www.poemhunter.com/poets/)