The Sandy Eubank Memorial Prize
Spring 2015
Kit Loney


The thirty­seventh time you drowned me in the river
		Quiet singing of the leaves, how the sunlight flickers through

The second time you whittled out a banjo from my bones
		The echo of my voice in the cave of your heart

The time you died in battle, all my letters steeped in blood
		Fiddle walk flame, blackbirds ring the bell

When you hanged yourself because the oaks would not stop singing
		Mina Naomi my many names you know me

The time you crashed your motorcycle raging at the wall
		Five hard weeks of rain, weeping stars to wash the warning

Your promises and pretty mouth a hive of maddened bees
		The sweetness and the sting I still carry into war

The wooden bed I languish on, the blankets stitched with lies
		The little nest of bones and fur the mouse leaves when it dies
©2014 Kit Loney