The war was over.
We sutured the wounded,

buried the dead, sat at the bar
with the enemy, near the blue

throat of the sea. A sushi chef
slivered salmon into orchids,

etched clouds from oysters,
as they rose snowing pearls.

From shrimp and seaweed
he shaped hummingbirds,

which hovered above
our heads.

With the world’s smallest blade
he carved from yellowfin,

miniature flanks of horses.
They cantered around our hands.

Poet Bio

What People are Saying

"What really makes a poem dynamic is not the use of grand gestures. Rather, it is the tones and expressions of the voice that help listeners connect and understand the meaning of a poem."
Angelica Sterling
2017 USVI POL Champ