Wedding Cake Poem by Naomi Shihab Nye

Wedding Cake

Rating: 4.4


Once on a plane
a woman asked me to hold her baby
and disappeared.
I figured it was safe,
our being on a plane and all.
How far could she go?
She returned one hour later,
having changed her clothes
and washed her hair.
I didn't recognize her.
By this time the baby
and I had examined
each other's necks.
We had cried a little.
I had a silver bracelet
and a watch.
Gold studs glittered
in the baby's ears.
She wore a tiny white dress
leafed with layers
like a wedding cake.
I did not want
to give her back.
The baby's curls coiled tightly
against her scalp,
another alphabet.
I read new new new.
My mother gets tired.
I'll chew your hand.
The baby left my skirt crumpled,
my lap aching.
Now I'm her secret guardian,
the little nub of dream
that rises slightly
but won't come clear.
As she grows,
as she feels ill at ease,
I'll bob my knee.
What will she forget?
Whom will she marry?
He'd better check with me.
I'll say once she flew
dressed like a cake
between two doilies of cloud.
She could slip the card into a pocket,
pull it out.
Already she knew the small finger
was funnier than the whole arm.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: mother
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ratnakar Mandlik 14 May 2016

A beautifully conceived poem with an excellent flight of imagery dealing with a travel in plane with an unforgettable experience. Thanks for sharing it here.

1 0 Reply
Edward Kofi Louis 14 May 2016

The little nub of dream! ! Thanks for sharing.

1 0 Reply
Rajnish Manga 14 May 2016

An interesting incident aboard a plane very well narrated spiced with a bit of imagination. Thanks, Naomi.

1 0 Reply
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Naomi Shihab Nye

Naomi Shihab Nye

St. Louis, Missouri
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