Time Traveller by Erica Sternin

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The Grandmother comes as soon as I close my eyes. There is no “when” other than this shell that she is holding, Conch? I wonder. Abalone, oyster? No response. Wrong question. She stands on the beach, tangy green wavelets surge … Continue reading

Alchemy by Erica Sternin

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The part of me that was once moist,
The ground where the spring wells
Through the Earth – That part of me –
Gone… She’s a dried up mud flat,
Cracked hard pan.
Croning – is not juicy. Not moist.
More like hammered steel: forged, flattened, and

Wicked strong.

The Little Things by Erica Sternin

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Our library has two floors, with sixteen stairs between them. “Nothing That is Not For My Good Can Enter Here” I chant Sixteen times, pushing my golden force field  past my finger tips, As I rise, nauseous, to serve the … Continue reading