Molting

It begins with the flesh we leave

at the door—the soft flakes

of skin we lose to the earth.

We don’t talk about shedding

enough, but crabs have it down pat.

Each shell swells with seawater,

expands & cracks at its designated

seam—expelling old barnacles

& hardened wounds. They just spit

that shit to the ocean floor, hoping

for a promising divide. Their soft bodies

troll the open, avoid becoming prey, as

tired exoskeletons wash to a new shore.

Terin Weinberg is an MFA candidate and Graduate Teaching Assistant at Florida International University in Miami, Florida. She graduated with degrees in Environmental Studies and English from Salisbury University in Maryland. She serves as the Poetry Editor for Gulf Stream Magazine, and has been published in journals including: The Normal School, Flyway: Journal of Writing & Environment, Moon City Press, Split Rock Review, and Waccamaw. She was featured in Z-Publishing House’s: Best Emerging Poets of 2019 series. Her work is forthcoming in Rewilding: Poems for the Environment, a 2020 anthology & After Happy Hour Review.