New Mexico

In the Morning,

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

I am going to take my time
crawling to consciousness.

I am going to linger in bed
grasping for silvery dreams,
flirting with the gray light
of dawn outside window.

In the morning, I will allow
myself to fill my lungs with air
and follow my breaths.

I will leisure in sleep,

a curling cat in a cut
of sunshine on carpeted floor,

the last chill of morning chased

from my skin.

I will allow my body to find

its own movement and rhythm.

I will listen to the silence.

In the morning,
before the sun is too high
and the air too cloudy,
I will wander till I reach the river.

Maybe I’ll see the sunflowers again,
that little grove on the north side of the freeway.
Perhaps it will break me to tears
like it did that one day last summer.

Perhaps it will conjure
a release I didn’t know
I was resisting.

 

 

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Ghosts of California

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

Curled in brown wicker,
I bask in the stories of dead men.

Sun drenched cowboys who have
long since stepped foot on a farm;
no longer able to ride a horse.

Their eyes reveal they have
put up with California for too long.

And now, as each of their ghosts lean
into the basket and poke at my red face,
they embed legends on childish palms:

say it is for luck,
say it is one of their rituals.

They don’t realize the calluses they create,
never suspect such power in stirring
the clouded skies of a child.

She sings

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

in the bath
not the shower

her showers are too quick
splash, dash done

but in the bath
she lingers

and she sings

she is an exquisite singer
not because she can
carry a tune

she can’t

but after two glasses
of wine she doesn’t try

she sings the words she knows
and makes up the ones she doesn’t

it doesn’t matter
it doesn’t stop her

she sings,
not like no one is listening,
but like everyone is

she sings like the world is dangling
on her every word

she sings like she has a song
buried inside her and it is

now

finding its way to the surface

she sings like she is not just being heard
but understood for the first time

she sings

in the bath
when there is time and echo

she sings and it is beautiful