uncle used to climb mountains.
he was a lion: the king who emerged
from unnatural mountains composed
only of gunpowder and the orders
of one man against another.
his skin is a map composed of ghosts
and places and ancient stories-
it is older with this knowledge,
but the strong golden of his hands
still holds remnants of the old summer’s striking sun.
grandmother was a pearl right out of the sea
when she stepped onto the land of the free.
grandmother sowed the seeds of the most beautiful
flowers. she planted them in crevices where light
was a stranger; she wove them in her hair.
i carry grandmother’s flowers, i keep the seeds in my heart.
i know she watches me by the sea where she stepped.
my father runs through smoke. through the dusk
he dodges ghosts and the cruel tongue of fire-
and leaves; a hero to the glass children and their mother.
father made castles out of autumn leaves and music out
father finds light in the dark: he chases the sun as
he carries me on his strong back.
i feel him as he holds his kind hands out- i
think of father’s golden heart.
he echoes grandmother. they both plant flowers
in the core of dark soil; a new beginning.
the canyon that is my skeleton,
the pang of my copper heart
preserved against the tough rock of my rib.
it is a song for them.
Katherine loves to write because it serves as both entertainment and a learning outlet for her. She currently serves as the editor of her school’s newspaper and literary magazine. Katherine’s writing focuses on her family, her favorite places, and anything else she finds interesting. Her favorite form of storytelling is poetry because she loves to experiment with all of its different styles. When she’s not writing, Katherine is either watercolor painting or reading a good book.
Art by Garfield