Erika Luckert
We lay the foundations on sand
for easy leveling, rely
on the countless glassy grains
to take the weight and pass it
through the ground.
When we build the floor,
it’s a cobble of balance beams,
and I wobble across
as we fix each two-by-four
to its mate. The walls
are not yet walls, instead
they are gridwork plans, some
sawdust-scented thought
of what could be.
Just think of when the gaps
are filled, the drywall
raised. We will know
what this architecture is
when we lift the windows
into place. We may not
even need a roof at all.
Return to Spring Issue Volume 11.2
Erika Luckert is a poet, writer, and educator. Her work has appeared in Denver Quarterly, Indiana Review, CALYX, Room Magazine, Tampa Review, F(r)iction, Atticus Review, Boston Review, and elsewhere. A graduate of Columbia University’s MFA in Poetry, Erika has taught creative and critical writing at public schools and colleges across New York City. In 2017, she was awarded the 92Y Discovery Poetry Prize. Originally from Edmonton, Canada, Erika is currently a PhD student at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.