Poem -
An Experience
The cake mix is swirling around the mixing bowl
My favorite time to pounce
Deftly shutting the mixer off and
Grabbing a beater full
chocolate batter poured into floured pans
The oven is hot and ready to bake
This symbol of my digital life gone real
The mixing beater is messy and lickable reminding me of other times
When my entire world centered on a mixing boowl.
WHen the house smelled other worldly
And no one has gone away
WHen the timer rang and the time to check came on
The pans are set side by side rounded and ready to frist
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Comments
I like how the actions the writer is performing, though they be oft repeated actions, are, at first, redolent of nice memories but, the further the reader gets into the poem, those initial memories become swamped by different ones. And I find the point at which you finish the poem significant, almost like interest has been lost and the pans may well stay there just as they are.