kettles in the sky

my grandmother, my sister and i will lie on the grass
in our grandmothers front garden
we will create creatures in the clouds above
the sun warm on our faces
my grandmothers wispy white hair playing across her weathered face
there is a rabbit
turned to a spaceman
that is now a kettle

there is soup on the stove
biscuits in the jar by the bread box
an out of tune piano
and chalk over our fingers
i am home