Poetry

Thank You

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

Thank you

for the dance in the lightning storm;
the blowing wind that chilled summer skin
and placed my hair in your eyes.

Thank you

for meeting my gaze with kindness,
laughing at my redundant jokes, and
singing along with me to the radio.

Thank you

for learning the words to my favorite song.

Thank you

for the drink on the porch
after everyone else was gone,
for the last cigarette in your pack
and the honest conversation
long after the hour of reason
when our lips say things
our minds have long hidden.

Thank you

for the reminiscence,
for just a little while, for just one night,
of precious moments long lost
to the whirl of the wind,
while the sky’s electricity screams.

Thank you

for remembering me.

Thank you

for making me
feel as though I am still loved.

But mostly,
thank you

for releasing your grip,
for letting time and space work their magic to heal
the wounds you dug into me. Thank you
for letting me go.

“Thank You” is previously published in The Fall of a Sparrow (2014).

X

/ Katrina Kaye

Katrina Kaye

One tied to my
left wrist,

wraps silver around
ring finger,
pulls with
all his might.

He wants to keep
me. Take me away
in a whirlpool of
reckless dreams
doomed to dissipate.

He knows nothing
of the cruelty
of the earth.

*

The other
strapped herself
to right ankle,

wants nothing
more than my smile,
says she loves me.

I stopped calling
her a liar.

She wants me to walk
on her, wants to be
my road, holds me
firmly to the ground.

*

I am tied,
pulled in
opposition

and have grown tired
of the struggle.

All I want is
to touch
my own skin.

Yet I still
tremble at the
thought of being
let go.

“X” is previously published in September (2014).

On the Plane

/ Katrina Kaye / 4 Comments

Katrina Kaye

to Houston,
I catch the scent
of my grandmother.

I couldn’t place
it’s origin,
but I knew
it as her.

I am not one to commune
with other worlds,
never been touched by angels
or seen flashes of god.

I have the spirituality
of an earth worm,

but
I still hope.
I always hope.

And my mind wonders at
the wandering soul
of my grandmother
as she passes through
narrow cabin.

I slip
into seat
and let her slip
into my mind.

Freely,
I trace the veins of
her cold hands,
the lines of her smile,
the sound of her laugh
all these precious memories,
cradling the images
close at mind,
tight to heart.

But they wander easy,
fade in a mere moment
as fast as
passing breeze
into the light
of rising sun.

“On the Plane” previously published in the collection, my verse…, published by Swimming with Elephants Publications, LLC in 2012.