Poetry Time

Marie Antoinette’s Discussion

I was lonely, sad, and afraid when I first came to France.

Nothing was familiar, just completely foreign,

everything except for the cake.

The French and Austrian bakers must have

traded secrets and tips across the border,

because their cakes were the same.

Delicious. Sweet. Moist. Comforting.

When the people of France were in

turmoil, I imagined them to be

lonely, sad, and afraid, as I looked

out the windows of Versailles and

I wanted to help them, to comfort them.

I gave them the only piece of advice that brought

me cheer when I said,

“Let them eat cake.”