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).


Katrina Kaye

Night is
a tapestry
hung over
rough wool
brown skin.
I feel you,
arms around
my body,
a cradle
of green
and gold.

“Armor” is previously published in Saturday’s Sirens (2020).


Katrina Kaye

I am elegant
in surf:
a better
swimmer than
most land
bound creatures,
resistant to
regain straight
legged pose.

You can tell
by the arch
of my back
I can keep afloat
after the moon
rips her tides.

I thought
letting body
simmer to
was the only
way to
feel grace
until my waves
met your shore.

I do not grip
to your coast
because I think
I will drown.

I hold on
because I
can’t bear
to let you go.

“Coastline” is previously published in Otherwise Engaged (2022).