However, My Mother Taught Me How to Make Crepes

By Eileen Wiard

When I beat eggs in a bowl mix in flour

and milk, you are always beside me smoothing

away lumps. I pour the batter, wait

for the bubbling, then flip each crepe, you 

appearing in every one. When I beat eggs the phone

always rings. No, you have the wrong number I say

after the voice says Birthright?

When I beat eggs in a bowl whisking away

the lumps you’re always grabbing

the phone saying Yes, this is Birthright.

Your hand held up as warning to me

you say Oh no, I want to help you 

keep the baby. I need to know how much batter

to pour onto the now smoking frying pan.

Lines crease your forehead.

You weren’t exactly a wanted child locking your eyes

with mine. When I beat eggs in a bowl, mix

in flour and milk, the phone always rings,

the kitchen smoky.