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).

Person at the Window

Katrina Kaye

inspired by Salvador Dali

He always painted her by a window.
A gold thread woven by her brother’s careful hand.

Thin curtains, like the inventions of monsters,
oscillate on either side of her in the breeze like
patient lovers and little ashes.

Amidst sand and gravel glued to canvas,
sways the finery of the broken bridge of a dream.
She stands untouched wrapped in the purity of white
and the blue of a sublime sky shimmering off of the sea.

She holds the skin of orchestras in the head of roses
and picks petals from trembling piano keys.
A symphony in red performed by instruments
birthed on liquid desires.

She remains a meditative rose,
forever at Spanish window ledge,
a faceless dream triggered by the flight of a bee
around a pomegranate one second before waking up.

Previously Published in Vermilion Literary Magazine (2022).


Katrina Kaye

you are mine

for me

you are the silver
on my fingers

the sweat along
my temples

you are mine

a confidence I don’t
have to share
or confess

a secret
not exactly
but owned

I have no
lingering value
or clandestine

there is just
who I am

and you
my gift

“Mine” is previously published in Rabbits for Luck (2016).