Katrina Kaye

Despite the change of pressure in my lungs,
I continue to feel you breathing my air.

We are linked.

You spent too many summers clinging to
the folds of bed skirts to believe your
disappearance is more than mere migration.
The best days of winter are spent in
preparation for the return of spring.

We are well practiced at letting each other go.
We have done it so many times.