This is Kay that was with us
on the morning that the sun rose dimly
above the hills beyond our farmhouse.
Purse in hand and nylons clinging desperately
to legs that did not need them,
she stood straight beside a tall pine
and smiled.
The clouds remained still in the air
and her eyes saw the smoke
that rose from my cigarette.
A wild rose at her elbow leaned over
to listen to the faint breeze
and she heard the rumble of a truck
like the distant thunder that follows lightning.
This is Kay that was with us
before she shattered all our dinner plates
and left town in the next car to pass by our house.
- J. Addis, Special November contributor to SALDANATION