Russian Tea Cakes

Six (6) tablespoons confectioners' sugar:
Arrested, suddenly and acutely,
I longed for those confectionary snowballs—
An alabaster pyramid, disarmingly pure,
Beside black philters, brewed by caramel hands.

Two (2) cups all-purpose flour:
Bright expanses of land,
And half a ruble for every acre.
Monuments, skyscrapers--
Bran and stalk, outstretched to firmament--
Your enduring strength is softened by

One (1) cup butter:
Melting down three wind-twined curves,
A sigmoid serpent, proffering
An Exodus from Eden,
But not a Fall from grace.
Not the knowledge of an apple,
But the wisdom of

One (1) cup chopped walnuts:
Bitter and intellectual,
Rough and textured
As conversation—
Both leave the tongue raw
And the mind ripe.
Scattered amongst us,
Spreading your potent

One (1) teaspoon vanilla extract:
You're too intense to drink,
Too precious to dilute.
You spice every palate,
And thereby never overwhelm
Just a one (1).

A. Score