Three poems by Kat Hammerich


what can I trade for you,
the neighbor’s dog, barking
into the silence, the paper boy,
who does not double wrap, the comics
blurring, my grandfather, on my
mother’s side, not much time
there, my left hand, holding half
the keyboard, my heart,
still beating



I take off for long walks with my dog
because I need to talk to my mother,

her voice inside my head.

I speak out loud as I walk, pretend
I am on the phone,

which I am,
calling home where you sit
with busy hands

in a familiar kitchen

and we handle shit,
laugh inappropriately
+++++++ & enjoy it,

the words,
the complications of each other’s lives,

while my feet carry me tirelessly

through the soaring beauty of an autumn sky in Arizona:

I can hear your voice,
it’s been here with me
all day.

I’ve carried you to so many new places,
beautiful daughter of a
++++++++++ beautiful mother;

we still whisper secrets in the dark,

still cry,
++++++++++ suddenly, fiercely, sometimes,

then breathe a giggle sigh of relief

and return
to our own kitchens.



tonight I worship,
soft light in the kitchen
my dancing feet, bare & soft
tracing the floor,
my voice, low,
under the music
of guitar, a violin
tasting the air
a dog
rumbling a sigh,
adjusting her bones,
& it’s not my hands,
tickled with bubbles
in the soft silk of
clean dishes
I see,
but my grandmother’s
in the warm yellow light
of a cabin
while a summer rain
drums on a summer night
& your voice in the background,
low &
over something
I’m too young
to hear.

Kat Hammerich has been a starving artist, a baker, a dog trainer, a dancer, a poet. She’s battled cancer and schizophrenia and kicked some major ass. She currently lives with her amazing husband, Jason, and her service dog, Picasso.

Our JustGiving page is open for donations to the Children’s Heart Surgery Fund – no amount is too small if you feel moved to support.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s