It's his birthday
and he's baking bread again
my dear brother-in-law
whose knowing smile
and sense of irony
might by some be undervalued
though not by me

These six days past
he's kept us fed
with meals that any chef
would happily pronounce
la haute cuisine
he says he does it
simply for the pleasure
just as my brother practices
his clarinet
and I wrestle with words
for the pure satisfaction
I feel when sounds and meanings
fall in place

But to be fed the way
that Aric feeds us
is a gift that brings
us lucky ones
who share his table
higher by at least a dozen rungs
up the ladder
that leads to paradise