you
brown leather jacket worn at the elbows
top button missing and collar frayed
wisp of blond lost near blue eyes, hanging
loose before I slowly brush it away
cinnamon cologne clinging to car seats
long after the windows cleared and air cooled
fingertips tremoring as they glide
across my cheek, one last kiss goodbye
Cherry Trees
Papaw Kidd’s branches sway with each tickle
of the wind. Look at big they are, Mamaw
gasps, eyes hugging the trunks grown green with moss.
Aunt Vivy nods, If only we could still climb.
Shade covers the lawn as leaves and blossoms
stretch across the sky, the two trees reaching
for a lover’s embrace. Mamaw looks at a bird,
hopeful for a place to land, We can
when we dream. Perched on a twig, it begins
singing. Do you hear that? Aunt Vivy closes
her eyes. Mamaw sighs, Yes, he’s just like us.
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 