Poem

Father

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

Allow a streak of light
from single bulb hallway
to lay across the floor.

Remind me, in this mild action,
there are heroes in the world,
not every action is based on
the selfish hunger of men.

On nights like this
the rocks of the world
lay heavy on my spine,
pinning me to an earth
I have no desire to inherit.

Let me hear the voices
down the hall. The influx
in cadence regardless of meaning,
the occasional laugh.

I am again
five years old asleep in
a stranger’s house feeling
no desire to resume the
party but comforted to know
it continues.

Leave the door cracked,
just enough, so I’ll know
when the house rings silent,
when the hall light finally dims
that I am completely alone.

“Father” is previously published in Chariot Press (2022). Talon (2022), and Greatest City Diary (2022).

well practiced

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

Despite the change of pressure in my lungs,
I continue to feel you breathing my air.

We are linked.

You spent too many summers clinging to
the folds of bed skirts to believe your
disappearance is more than mere migration.
The best days of winter are spent in
preparation for the return of spring.

We are well practiced at letting each other go.
We have done it so many times.

 

A Short Ode to Breath

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

In search of
my purpose,
I wander the house.

As though spying
on a discarded lover,
I peek the sunset
around the curtains:

the glimpse of
lavender and orange hues
reflect off the bottom
of untouched clouds.

I forget what I am looking for.

Instead of continuing
a search, I sit still and
enjoy a deep breath,
precious and deliberate,

unlike so many
I take for granted.

“A Short Ode to Breath” is previously published in New Croton Review (2025).