When I was a little girl,
perhaps once or twice a year
my parents would have a party,
sometimes it was a New Years Eve celebration
to which children were not invited;
I’m not sure what we did
to occupy ourselves in our rooms on the second floor,
but what I remember is
the next morning
there were many tumblers
with an inch or two of liquid
at the bottom—but which did not taste very good.
I suspect my brothers may have
poured all the dregs together
to see what they had missed,
but what I remember best
is the remains of a cake
Left laying out on the table
now crusty and dried out–
but cake…was cake….no matter what its condition
so while my parents slept
We polished off the cake.

–Sandra Lee Smith


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