Heart Shaped Pan by Rosanne T. Alyea
Her heart is full
Yet still, she cannot seem to tell me
Perhaps she is too shy
She bakes me a cake in a heart-shaped pan
To speak the words I am hungry for
Her smooth hands divide the eggs
The butter, the flour, the sugar
In the warmth of the oven
The heart grows full
Sweet memories are all I need
Each time I turn another year
Pink icing perfectly tinted
Matches my childhood bedroom
Brightly colored sprinkles
Each one so carefully placed
They whisper words of love
Her creased hands divide the eggs
The butter, the flour, the sugar
It stirs up memories
She slowly rises and peeks in the glass
Again, the heart grows full
Like minutes on the timer
The years pass swiftly
The pan is black and burnt in certain spots
Her apron is faded and tattered
She grows frail, too delicate to speak
She grows tired, yet waits tirelessly
For something, they aren't certain what
They think she is holding on
My heart is full
Yet still, I cannot seem to tell her
Perhaps I am too shy
I bake her a cake in a heart-shaped pan
To speak the words she is hungry for
Like a little girl, she smiles sweetly
Her heart grows full
She slips away
Sweet memories are all we need.
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