Buddy Dwyer's Cake
Buddy Dwyer made a cake.
He cut one slice, and
sent me back 30 years.
First I thought about
Auntie Lil's cakes,
my mom's, then mine.
We baked cakes thoughtfully,
considered how we'd frost them—
cooked or buttercream.
When a cake was special,
we added walnuts.
I listened to how Uncle Paul
made my parent's
wedding cake
how my parents saved me
a slice of that cake in a shoebox,
in their attic room.
Mice ate it before I was born.
I wonder if the mice dreamt of their future,
as I was supposed to do.
I was born careless,
and dreamed too much.
Buddy's cake was like
the best part of childhood.
In winter it tasted of summer,
pineapples, black walnuts, and coconut.
White frosting floated over the top like clouds.
He gave me a big slice to take home.
Meeting Epona
Jess called at supper time
The wood stove crackled heat
from cherry wood and birch
supper was a minute from ready
Jess said he was weaker
wanted me to help him try
alchemical silver injections
I wondered what alchemical
injections were and we talked
No, but I'll help you
it may be to heal
it may be to pass
easier--Let me sit with it a while
I filled my plate at the stove
and placed it on the table
The room shifted
and breathed differently
a whoosh of energy
swept into the room
and then into me
I asked—Who
Epona filled me
so I began to sing
I sang out for Jed
on key and strong,
I sang for the whole
length of dirt road
steady and strong
I sang for every being
I could think of
I sang for Jess again
one last time
Elaine Reardon is a poet, herbalist, and educator. Her chapbook, The Heart is a Nursery For Hope, was published September 2016. Most recently, Elaine’s poetry has been published by stanzaicstylings.com ezine, Three Drops from a Cauldron Journal, Mused, MASS Poet of the Moment, and poetrysuperhighway.com. Elaine lives in the forest in Western Massachusetts. She maintains a blog at elainereardon.wordpress.com.
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