by Tobi Cogswell

I’m waiting for cake
to fully celebrate
the holiday season, and winter
that truly is winter.

I’m waiting for spice
on my tongue, that tastes
the way fireplaces
smell, when you step out

on the porch and can’t tell
the direction, chimney smoke
hidden by clouds and the night
black-brown as chocolate,

just as intoxicating, the sexy
dark wrapped around like a cloak,
comfort and mystery.
I’m waiting for almond,

the tweed of tastes, color
the speckled loveliness of
dusty piano keys,
or marzipan the pale green

of fondant, draped like bedsheets,
a carpet of grass laid sideways
and silent under frost, the snows
of December. I am waiting . . .

IMAGE: “Cakes” by Wayne Thiebaud (1963).


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Tobi Cogswell is a five-time Pushcart nominee and a Best of the Net nominee. Her seventh and latest chapbook is The Coincidence of Castles from Glass Lyre Press. Her collaborative full-length collection, The Color of Forgiveness, is available from Mojave River Press. She is the co-editor of San Pedro River Review (www.sprreview.com).