Two After Wayne Thiebaud, by Elanur Williams

Lemon Cake, by Wayne Thiebaud (USA) 1964

Lemon Cake 
​
That morning, I left. 
We cut thick slices 
 
of lemon cake and I hid
a chocolate egg 
 
in my coat pocket, wrapped
in gold foil. I couldn’t stand 
 
the taste of butter.
That first pregnancy: two 
 
pink lines. My hands
on my belly. My belly not
 
swollen. I walked 
to the water: low tide, 
 
open mouth of the sea. 
A child at the airport, 
 
waiting. Across the street, 
a clinic and a cafe 
 
where he and I once met 
for cake. The small table 
 
now a circle, holding
my mother’s silence. 

Three Ice Cream Cones, by Wayne Thiebaud (USA) 1964

Strawberry Ice Cream 

I crave strawberry ice cream 
for the second time. Afternoon  
 
heat pressed against me,
I walk towards Mister Softee’s
 
at the edge of West Harlem 
and Morningside Heights. 
 
Almost forty weeks 
pregnant, I am induced 
 
the final stretch 
of summer before 
 
Labor Day. Cubes of ice 
in paper cups, epidural 
 
cold against my spine. 
Soon, the baby’s body 
 
warm against mine. I drink in
her newborn scent: 
 
sweetness of berries 
washed in heavy cream.

Elanur Williams 

Elanur Williams is a teacher who has taught in elementary schools and most recently served as a GED/Pre-GED teacher at an adult learning centre in the Bronx. She wrote these poems inspired by her love for sweets and as an homage to the pregnancies she experienced in her twenties. Her work has been featured or is forthcoming in The Ekphrastic Review, Quail Bell Magazine, Academy of the Heart and Mind, Door is a Jar, and 3Elements. She holds a BA in English and Creative Writing, an M.Phil. in Children's Literature, and an MS.Ed. in Literacy Studies. She lives in New York with her husband and daughter.