Iron and Sulfur

The Dream

/ Katrina Kaye / Leave a comment

Katrina Kaye

I dreamt I went to
the hills. Surviving on

fresh spring water, apples
from an overgrown tree,
and the poetry of Wordsworth.

I rode a yellow horse
through a moon filled sky.
The earth, drenched
from recent downpour,

spits spots of splattered mud
to my calves as I rode through
rocks and brush, forgotten paths
and overgrown trails.

This is my oasis:

lush grass up to my waist
rocky creeks singing sweetly,
the breeze drying the tears
that leaked from wind rushed eyes.

I swear I found it:

a life of intention and purpose
wrapped in the simplicity of
earth and sky, sun and moon.

Something I can never hold,
but can feel with every inhalation.

But dawn came,

trampling through my trees,
ripping through my silence,
ending my peace,

with the reality of the waking world.

“The Dream” is previously published in Hazy Expressions (2007?) and a scattering of imperfections (2009).

Sunburst

/ Katrina Kaye / Leave a comment

Katrina Kaye

I am trying
to remember
your eyes:

if they burst
around iris,

if they traded
shades of
yellow for grey.

Memory is a
flexible thing,
easily impassioned
or quickly buried
with the influence
of passing days.

You were a
bird I let
fly free but
desperately
hope to see
once more.

Your eyes were
not your best
feature, still,
I can’t help
but to search
for them in
the passing
of crowds.

“Sunburst” is previously published in You May Need to Hear This (2021).

First Kiss

/ Katrina Kaye / Leave a comment

Katrina Kaye

While our parents sit drinking
wine and discussing tomorrow,

we dress each other in mistletoe
and left over silver tinsel.

We make sashes of old strips of paper,
anklets and bracelets out of gold ribbon.

I am the one with the glittery bow,
you are the one in white.

With snips of the scissors
we turn one another into gypsy princesses.

You say we should paint our toenails red.
I say we should learn the violin.

Your mother gives us a tambourine,
faded blue peace sign on taut calfskin.

I poise my hand with imaginary bow
over invisible instrument

and with clanging clashes
we swish our juvenile hips.

We throw candy coins at each other’s feet
as we dance in the hallway to a rhythm-less beat.

After they have all gone to bed,
you trace the lifeline of my right hand

and tell a fate of sparrows crippled by autumn
with you in the past and migration destined.

I press my future between your lips
and believe every word.

“First Kiss” is previously published in The Fall of a Sparrow (2014) and A Scattering of Imperfections (2009).