Cora by Katrina Kaye

he changed
my name, mother

he painted my
hair red and left
my skin to pale
hidden from the
childish strokes
of the sun

with mother’s strings
no longer to bind me
I found a comfort in the
shadow of his kindness

for three months
I hid in the back rooms
knowing full well
the sun was shining

mother,
did you realize
this ripening fruit was
unplucked

In your absence

I fell from vine

Katrina Kaye is a writer and educator living in Albuquerque, NM. She is seeking an audience for her ever-growing surplus of poetic meanderings. She hoards her published writing on her website: ironandsulfur.com. She is grateful to anyone who reads her work and in awe of those willing to share it.