These Flowers

Katrina Kaye

These flowers are not so bright
to drain radiance from your smile.
They are not so strange
to make you appear ordinary;

They accent your wink and playful smirk,
as they lace delicate fingernails.
They speak of the coming spring
and your role in blooming.

Like you, they have a story of hope which
I long to hear. Like you, they hold my gaze
and breath for a moment longer than
I expected or should have allowed.

If only you held onto those petals
a bit longer and with a bit more care,
if only you knew what the promise of spring
could bring to the heart of this old woman.

“These Flowers” is previously published in Hazy Expression (2004).

A Poem

Katrina Kaye

I was dreaming about a poem,
illusive to the page,
narrow columns featuring
my fancy script and
signature phrases.

Words I am sure I
have written before
but never had the chance
to share. Words I thought
I knew by heart.

You were there too,
but not as much
the you I knew
as a picture I have
stuck in my mind.

You were sitting on the
stairs in the narrow space
between your body and ground.
With each move I took to surpass you,
you lowered yourself more
until you were over me,
and despite the rain,
and the hood over your head,
I knew you and smiled
at clandestine luck.

I kissed you, full mouth,
wondering if anyone would notice
the static spark from my lips
to yours.

I thought I would remember the poem.
I thought I would be able to write it
upon waking but it slipped away from me
like so many cursed words and key phrases,
like memories I forgot to write down,
like walking passed a possible lover.

“A Poem” is previously published in Spillwords (2022).

Armor

Katrina Kaye

Night is
a tapestry
hung over
shoulders,
rough wool
against
brown skin.
I feel you,
arms around
my body,
a cradle
of green
and gold.

“Armor” is previously published in Saturday’s Sirens (2020).