Cake
       

When first I saw her lips meet another man's face I didn't think
Shit! I thought Cake     I thought a pink and iced castle cake stark
and alone in the garden rain     the party departed     its glowering
candle dumbstruck     one small flame tearing for the now moistening air
when first I saw her lips meet another man's face

I didn't think How could she do this to another man's face?
I pictured that big yellow bowl I pictured that brown wooden
spoon my mother used to stir its quickening mixture     its
mixture rolling further and further toward its intended self
when first I saw when first I saw her lips

I saw a warm sponge rise in the oven of my mother's kitchen
to meet its supposed and predestined shape I saw it cut its well
sprung figure I saw its proud stature and the icing on top and
my mother's     her gladdened hands in her apron     I thought Cake
when first I saw another man     her lips on another man's face

the party gone inside     my mother's work my mother's finely
crafted work the care she took     a wet cake in the garden

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Copyright © 2018 Wayne Holloway-Smith All rights reserved
from Alarum
Bloodaxe Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission