ERIKA WRIGHT

Postcard to a Lover on Canal Street

You whispered what I left behind.
October in the delta—a small lift in air

as the swell of mimosa and crepe jasmine
ebbed into autumn. Cigarette sparks in the cemetery.

Honeysuckle wet and heavy with dew.
I’ll never come home, so I asked you

to come to me, among the creosote,
its herbal smoke. The heat that

skitters as it rises to the surface of your skin,
disappears into the moonscape,

dust as a million small silences.
Close your eyes.

You’ll swear it’s my skin against yours,
a dry culvert that floods in the monsoon. 

Erika Wright (she/her) has been writing, reading, and performing poetry since 1996. She has had a few careers, from data entry specialist for online restaurants to attorney to, most recently, head of school at a small, independent learning community. Throughout, she continued to write and has performed her poetry in coffee shops, dive bars, and local bookstores. She met her husband at a weekly open mic at Sunrise Coffee in Las Vegas. She currently lives in Snohomish, Washington, with him and their three children.