Youth

You search for the key
that lets you enter adulthood.

The door will lock behind you
with no handle on this side
and no one to care for your cries.

We have all been robbed here.



Katrina (in memoriam)

The keeper of yarn
ties up the loose threads.

When she's gone they unravel.



Poem

I wrote a poem
about our time together.
I will not share it.

Cara McKee

If you have any comments on these poems, Cara McKee   would be pleased to hear from you.