Afterthought 252—On Taking the Cake

Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2015/06/11
Icing?  Now he is carving out cakes?
And icing them with fantastic shapes?
His creations disappear into crumbs
of edible decorations, of good times
smeared into mixed colors on plates
that fed laughter, fun, sweet tastes,
brief memories that go dim and fade
before a next birthday'll celebrate.

No snapshot or journal can recall
love he gives to it, his good will.

You should write a poem, I say again.
Poems last longer.  Cakes are done
only to eat once, no matter how good
they taste or how fantastically made.
A good metaphor can do what icing does
over and over and over.  A poem has
no shelf life.  He replies he's heard
all that's both had and eaten's a word.


Sincere comment by readers who accept responsibility for their words will earn my appreciation and response.

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