And We Waltzed
My clumsy left feet, your confidence-full boots My zebra print jacket, your blue and black suit
The broken railroad bridge was dusted pure with snow
The church rooting for us, but we didn’t know
My come sit with me, your glance across the pew
My heart wants love, yours aching for something new
My Guardian Angel
We found it in the alley, Mamaw noticing its glint
poking out from someone’s trash. It’s a little broken,
she murmured, but that’s okay. It’s what makes it beautiful.
I didn’t like it, the chip in its wing, a tarnish
reminding me of what should have been. I wanted
it fixed, cried as she prayed, but we never found its missing
piece or clay we could paint pearly enough to match
its celestial glow. The statue stayed on her shelf, watching
as I played and grew, dusting as the years went by. Mamaw
never mentioned it, a sight that became forgotten
with time, but my eyes always traced its perfect dress and crown,
the wing haunting a side of me I wish I never had.
One day, I left, not coming back until it was too late,
Mamaw’s warm words stilled their echo yearning in my heart.
I brought my angel home and placed it beside my bed, counting two.
The Dog Days
My dad’s sombrero-wearing turtle sits
on the windowsill. Its seashell head bobbles
with each breeze creeping in with the summer
heat. A memento from his trip to Mexico,
long before babies were born, before I-dos
echoed in tear-filled churches. Before life changed.
He sat with his boys above rooftops, smiling,
open Modelos in hand, shouting
Mira la rata! And all cackling
as passersby jumped in fear. As warm days
turned to chilly nights, it never occurred
to them that the sun would never rise again.
And maybe it didn’t. But a new sphere
formed high in the sky. Not yellow or red,
but purple and blue like jewels. A new sun
casts shadows through our open windows,
gleaming with beams that rest on the turtle,
who nods when the air fills with memories.
Katelyn Dunne is an alumna of University of the Cumberlands. She hails from and currently resides in Chicago, Illinois. Previously, she has been a Managing Editor at The Drowning Gull, Associate Editor at Zoetic Press, and Student Editor at Pensworth. Her writing and artwork have been published in Pensworth, The Albion Review, NonBinary Review, Aurora, The Poetry Marathon Anthology, and several of Z Publishing’s anthologies. In her spare time, she enjoys attending Catholic mass, eating vegetarian entrees, and teaching a classroom of enthusiastic toddlers.
Pensworth 