The bed is a shard.
Sheets whisper.

Matisse wanders the walls
In a crawl of rain.

Once I knew a storm
Its hungry lung.

A bridge crossed early
Will beg for benediction.

Light sits in winter
Like a tiger’s eye.

Dawn eats horizons
And the crow’s breath.





He was slick as a needle’s tail
Short like dusk.

Sharp in the color of his hair.
Red like knives.

Too much light split up
The whole

Armed hard
With too much philosophy.

Tabled & shelved

Dark lamped
in charcoal light.



I was lost
               in your hand

circling like a
               tighter now

hook of storm

or a condor’s

               in my breath

               tongues of light.


I was loam
               in your thoughts

spreading like a
               fertile yes

clutch of dark

or a starling’s

             through my skin

            one sharp seed.


KATHLEEN CASEY graduated with a degree in fine art and has been actively involved in the arts since completing her degree. An interest in the history of lettering spurred her to study calligraphy and the history of typography as well graphic design. In recent years she has begun to explore the joys and mysteries of poetry.  She has travelled internationally and has published and received awards for her photography. She is inspired by the gifts of earth, the mysteries of human behavior and the wonders of the cosmos. She is passionate about color, gesture, texture, conservation, vegetable gardening, theatre, poetry and animals, especially of the feline persuasion.