Kira and I decided one evening before I had to go in
and get a bath that after bedtime we would call
out our windows to each other from across the alley.
First grade, I was still crazy awake when they’d
tuck me in, the sky so full of daylight. But having her
to talk to at night would be like double-dutching the
telephone lines that crossed the canyon between
our streets—I’d never be bored again. Yet from my
row of homes in my treehouse bedroom two and
a half stories up, the only word I heard was goodnight.
Two lifetimes ago, Catherine performed her poetry in Madrid. Now her main jobs are to write and hang out with her family. Her work has appeared in the Journal of the American Medical Association, Pank, Victorian Violet Press, and The Grief Diaries. Her chapbook, Soul Full of Eye, is published through Aldrich Press.