The Bagel

Who'd have thought there was poem about a bagel? How could I not notice when I'm using a bread-baking theme? By David Ignatow; given today at The Writer's Almanac.

I stopped to pick up the bagel
rolling away in the wind,
annoyed with myself
for having dropped it
as if it were a portent.
Faster and faster it rolled,
with me running after it
bent low, gritting my teeth,
and I found myself doubled over
and rolling down the street
head over heels, one complete somersault
after another like a bagel
and strangely happy with myself.