Mare

Katrina Kaye

Time whispers
a voice honeyed jasmine
thick with moss.

She has grown old
against the evening sun,
enveloped in the dust of dusk.

In the reflection
of stagnant pools,
she doesn’t ripple.

Merely notes
the landmarks of her face,
the constancy of her mind.

Time staggers forward.

“Mare” is previously published in My Woven Poetry (2021), Roi Faineant Literary Press (2021), and Flare (2022).

Dawn

Katrina Kaye

Dawn changes colors with her mood,
filters pink to purple
depending on shifts of mind.

She bleaches a world white
to reflect perfect pastels of morning,

and keeps soul bound to desert,
tethering feet to the barren earth
warmed only by autumn’s scattered leaves.

“Dawn” is previously published in Postcard Poetry (2012).

Katrina Kaye

We pay little attention
to the throbs as the
strychnine clenches backbones,

leaving us partially immobile
in the pain of descent.
The three of us lay in a triad,

trying to see faces in the sky.
Only a few hours ago,
the stars had so much

to say, but now they sit,
shimmering silently.
We are dirty and exhausted.

Our bodies expelling
poison through pores
opening up to the dawn.

But, somehow, we don’t
feel as alive as we did
when we were dying.

“When We Were Dying” is previously published in Leonardo Literary Magazine (2005).