Lullaby

Katrina Kaye

the past plays wind instruments
outside bedroom window
a lullaby from a childhood
that slipped by too fast

it’s a tune that has gone unheard
for decades, yet you seem to know
the arrangement of notes
and can anticipate the changing pitch

what melody does the present
sound like other than static
from the television
left on across the room

there is no rush to end the lullaby
it is not the numbed silence from the stillness
of strings and quietude of auditorium we want
but the continuance of the melody

how can we hear the song
when the present is a distracting buzz
when the future is blaring its inevitability
so loud it rattles the windows

this song isn’t urgent to finish
but to be heard as it crests and crescendos
across the bedroom from east facing window
illuminating the dust that sways through stale air

“Lullaby” is previously published in No Longer Water (2024).

Crone

Katrina Kaye

left to
the wind
of autumn

her hair
turns
white,

grows long
unruly

pays no
mind to the
twist of
time,

the thorns
threaten
the bells
which no
longer chime

and yet
there is
still so
much music

“Crone” is previously published in Spillwords (2021).

Forever

Katrina Kaye

Forever might last
only a matter of seconds
in the right hands.

It might last a night
of shadow and fog and
a chill in the air.

Forever is the five years
we spent pushing and
pulling together.

From the moment you found
your place at my side
to the last night you laid beside me.

So heavy, so still.
The weight of the world
pinning you to mattress.

The rise and fall of your body
a tender reminder
that this is forever.

And I am afraid of forever,
the commitment to sun and earth,
the permanence of it;

the way it does not negotiate
or offer resolve.
The curse of continuance.

Forever we hold our flags,
white and half mast
howling to a moon

that ceases to be despite how
we know it will forever
be there.

“Forever” is previously published by The Wild Word (2024).