Grandma told me that long ago, friendships began with bits of dough.
Folks who lived many miles apart, made their bread from a borrowed start.
A start, she explained, was a piece of dough, from which new yeast would begin to grow.
Smiling she said, "It worked just fine. Sharing our bread down the line."
"But who started the start?" I asked, one day. And she answered, "I can't rightly say."
But remember this, there's no finer feast than bread from a friendly strangers yeast."
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