For Michael Tyzack
He walks into the kitchen, a bit grizzled, but hungry for breakfast. It would be rude, I think, to tell him he’s dead, so I say good morning and tuck away the obits.
He is still caring for his mother in Sheffield. He is a child during the blitz and rations are scant, so when he sees the bowl of apples and reaches for one, she slaps his hand saying, “What? You think those grow on trees?”
I am helping him clean the front parlor, and what at first looks like a small pile of dust, we discover to be mounds of sand. We have to dig down to the socket to plug in the hoover. Its whine builds to a keening, like a trumpet calling to find its player.
Kit Loney is a visual artist and middle school art teacher living in Charleston, SC. She started writing poetry in 2005, having spent her adult life writing in journals, and finding the writing cropping up in her paintings and drawings as well. She has had poems published in the 2006, 2007 and 2008 Poetry Society of South Carolina Yearbooks, and in the 2007 and 2008 Kakalak Anthology of Carolina Poets.