Kaecey McCormic

When the Sky Blushes Watermelon

I want to take a bite, slide my tongue
through the hole in clouds to taste heaven—
would it smack of summer or be cool
as the church gate beneath my hand?
The wind whispers a story. I lift
my fingers and there is no anchor,
no spring line to keep me in place.
I sail past hills, past mountains to steal
a star. It tells me promises are like
broken glass beneath feet. I forgot
to say goodbye before my sister
left. I wonder if she noticed. The star
in my hand shows me she’s with me still—
running through corn fields, chasing June bugs
with glass. Jars can’t hold her. Promises
break under our soles.

Kaecey McCormick lives in the San Francisco Bay Area where she pretends to be a focused freelancer when she’d rather be crafting poems. Her work appears in various literary journals, including the Baltimore Review, Pedestal Magazine, The Pinch Journal, Clockhouse, Jabberwock Review, and Pine Hills Review as well as her chapbooks Sleeping with Demons(2023) and Pixelated Tears (2018). She is the 2023 winner of the Connecticut Poetry Prize, past Poet Laureate for the City of Cupertino, and a current instructor at The Writers Studio. In her free time, she reads, attempts to make non-dairy milks (sometimes with success), and takes copious notes while people-watching over coffee. She shares her home with a long-suffering spouse, two cats, and a growing collection of rocks.