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I heard you were in town
and my heart leapt wildly
It was your birthday
I made you my favorite “Lord Baltimore” cake
with the special “Seven-Minute Mountain” frosting
I whipped egg whites for seven hot minutes
over a steaming double boiler until they stood up
in high peaks of white meringue
baking from scratch is a labor of love
I placed two layers of rich moist yellow cake
with thick icing in the middle, on a plate
dressed it with the frosting
and covered it carefully for travel
I forget how I got the address
but I drove with my cake to the city
found the street, the apartment, the stairs
and rang the bell with great trepidation
but after all this, I stood
resolute, trembling
I was let in by an older woman, a poet in blue
I knew her by sight from around the beach
I wondered if you were sleeping with her
or was it just an old story
we put my cake on a round table
in her living room
I had written words on top in colored icing
I’d taken two lines from one of your poems
and changed them around in a clever, humorous way
to honor your birthday, your poem,
the cake delicious
you refused to see me
I turned and went out the door
leaving the birthday cake on the table
uncut, untasted
