Poem of the Week--Baby Corn--Gail Entrekin

Well, of course, after that great big belly-busting dinner, we all want to sit back and relax and read some poetry. How about some poetry that also involves dinnner? Actually, the title of this poem, was, as a child, Editrice Liz's favorite part of Chinese food, so there is a little nostalgia at work.

And hey hey, guess what you'll find next week on our site....only our Winter Issue, no big deal....wait a sec, we laid out this thing...yes, it's a big deal. Because of this, we won't have a poem of the week. You'll have enough reading to do. The POW shall return December 10th. Prisoner of...Web page? Never mind. Read the poem while we let the brain cool down and the stomach acid neutralize.

Baby Corn

(for Demian & Beth)

by Gail Entrekin
Around the table at Asian Garden
the kids laugh, spin the lazy susan, carefully
chopstick another moo shoo shrimp,
and the married son, joking as always at these
family gatherings, plucks a tiny ear of corn
from his steamed vegetables, holds it up
for scrutiny, and says casually,
"Speaking of babies, Beth is pregnant."
I turn to see her blushing
the way she does, and little Nicky, oblivious
beside her, blowing bubbles in his water glass.
Everyone exclaiming joyfully, we all jump up,
rush round the table to hug,
to touch this microscopic miracle.


Later, when we’ve settled back down with a round
of Sing Taos, I ask about names. Nicky,
she says, wants to name the baby Tree Trunk.
Tree Trunk, we muse. Everyone looks at Beth’s belly.
Little Tree Trunk, coming to us soon:
a sturdy child, new link
in a sturdy chain.