Time is different here
Rebecca Herrera
We live at the base of a mountain.
Where the sky extends itself like ivory arms,
and the Monet hyacinths, lilies, and lavenders
loosen their petals like a thin voice. The early
morning sunrise and the June moon push
and pull the horizon line, keeping their secrets.
My mom is our village oracle, infusing
her ancient stories with rosemary, lemongrass,
and thyme. A thousand and a thousand years
ago, she lingered inside the borders of Delphi,
pouring nectar into marble hands, over hillsides,
and whispering winged words to the Aegean Sea.
The window of our basement apartment
looks more like a Morisot, if you squint
your eyes enough, and let loose an airy sigh
like any other French impressionist would
when faced with the passage of light.
My mom doesn’t understand the mechanics of
stone calendars, or pocket watches, or metronomes,
but instead, she time-keeps by the layers of our
mortal mountain, by the chariot bells that sound off at
sunrise, and by the dust that settles from the northern
lights, carving spirits from the shadows of our faces.
Rebecca Herrera is a Salvadoran-American born and raised in New York. She earned her undergraduate degree in Art History and Museum Professions at the Fashion Institute of Technology. She usually spends her time playing animal crossing. You can find her on Instagram: @strawberry.img