Prompts for future conversation.

Of clearing her father’s house in Enfield,

she would only stand to say,

“Have you ever tried to sell a baby grand?

Or even given one away?”

 

After forever it was all that was left.

Guess this world has little need

for a baby grand beneath

a paper lampshade, on the quiet parquet.

 

The kitchen of her father’s house doubled as a study;

scraps and tumbler, scrambled egg.

A crust of cut-outs from the papers,

bull clipped and annotated:

 

Prompts for future conversation.

 

A screwdriver, a light bulb,

spoon of Sheffield steel.

A mug of tea. A gum of teal.

Bin bag, clumsy in the corner.

 

She wonders where it’s from.

Tells them where it’s going to.

 

 

 

The stillness in an inch of china in a sink of silted water.

8 thoughts on “Prompts for future conversation.

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