Erica Abbott
Acclimatize
We cover our bodies in snow, warmest
thing that can be found, luxury that it
is. Sunflowers used to line roads for miles,
necks arching for sips of sun. When comets
fully collide with earth, there is no light
to speak of. Winter takes up residence
in the crater left behind, cruel frost
settling deep into bone. Remarkable,
the ways we initiate our endings.
A glacier calving happens somewhere far
away and I think of a cow birthing
its young, small pieces of itself breaking
away like this. We’re so fragile in life.
Tell me then why we’ve chosen the hammer.
Erica Abbott reads “Acclimatize”
Erica Abbott (she/her) is a Philadelphia-based poet and writer whose work has previously appeared or is forthcoming in Ecotone, Epiphany, Shō Poetry Journal, Midway Journal, and others. She is the author of Self-Portrait as a Sinking Ship and is a poetry editor for Variant Literature. She is currently pursuing her MFA at Randolph College, where she is the assistant managing editor and poetry editor for Revolute. Visit her website at erica-abbott.com.