Three Day Old Sponge Cake
He discovers a wedge of chocolate cake
sealed unexpected and safe within the tin.
Bigger than a single slice.
Big enough to satisfy.
Certainly enough for him.
A find! A surprise! A bonus! A treat!
But… It looks a few days old.
Doesn’t yield much to his finger’s prod.
Icing splintering, buttercream clagging.
Sponge once risen to angel-wing lightness,
now drying and sagging.
Abandons the tin on the kitchen table.
A let-down. A disappointment. A shrug.
Fabled chocolate cake of youth,
swimming his mouth with saliva
and sweet-tooth ache.
Nostalgia and Cadbury’s buttons.
Time of sticky smiles
and no regrets.
Then it was never too late.
His gaze snags the mirror on the mantel.
Eyes, cast down at the corners
to match his mouth.
The greying, the receding,
the wearied brows.
All heading south.
He thinks of the cake.
The unexpected cake.
once yearned for.
Now going to waste.
When it’s still maybe not too late.
Because then he remembers
he has custard.
Tonight Claudia invites us to write about FOOOOOOOD at dVerse! http://dversepoets.com/2012/10/06/poetics-foodloose/