Bricklayer by Katrina Kaye

One Poem Only · Jul 14, 2025 · 2m

Bricklayer

Katrina Kaye

This poem was first published in Catching Calliope Vol 2, 2014.

I want to be a bricklayer;

something concrete

as opposed to just impression.

I want to learn to draw hands with accuracy.

To show precision in the etch of knuckles,

shaded in darkness.

There was never enough color.

There are so many

ways to look at one thing:

a church is violet against the changing sky,

the horizon set on fire into the back fall.

September sun crests different over

the yellow fields of the east

than the dirt of the city at dawn.

I prefer to paint at night.

I sketch my father twice…