A KIND OF BEAUTY

For Mum

When I was young, my mum would bake cupcakes
That looked like butterflies, with golden wings,
Defying gravity in cratered lakes
Of cream. Late motherhood now lightly brings
Me back to try a family recipe
That fails to note my mother’s gentle knack
Of checking that her kitchen chemistry 
Was right: she pressed the lids – if they sprang back
She knew the cakes were done. Some take a prong
And push it through the guts of all they doubt
To gather proof. But truly it seems wrong
To biopsy a sponge before it’s out.
Despite each prod and test that we devise,
We need not fear our bonds, for still we rise.

– Rita Glennon

Image below from The Cupcake Factory website: http://bit.ly/49TiF9L