Poem: The Sweet Whispers of Dorayaki and Macarons

On the living room table,
two boxes of sweets are placed side by side.
Dorayaki and macarons.

During a break in the rainy season,
the family went to the park to see the hydrangeas,
and the room is now quiet.

In that silence,
the sweets began to whisper to each other.

“You next to me,
you are so colorful.
You look just like a little toy.”
“And you are very
solid and dignified.”

“Yeah, they call it a ‘taste of stability.’
It’s meant as a compliment, but young people always
prefer Western sweets like you over us traditional Japanese ones.”
“But they call me a ‘reward sweet’
and only eat me once in a while.
I wish they would pick me up as casually as they do you.”

The two were silent for a while,
thinking about each other’s troubles.

“Come to think of it,
lately there are dorayaki with butter hidden in the bean paste,
or ones with fresh cream.
I even heard there are dorayaki with pudding inside.”
“Ah, that’s a painstaking effort
to try and get the attention of the young ones.
I think they should leave that to the bousses,
but... I wonder if I’m just old-fashioned.”

As the two were exchanging these whispers,
the door clicked open,
and the family returned.

“I’m hungry!
I’m going to eat a dorayaki!”

An elementary school girl reaches out first.

“What will you have, Grandpa?”
“Me? Let’s see.
I think I’ll have this bright red macaron.”

The dorayaki and the macaron exchanged a quiet glance.
The dorayaki felt happy and puffed up even more,
and the macaron seemed to blush, turning a slightly deeper shade of red.





(Rei, 2026.6.26)