October 8th 2025
Carrie Kerwin
carrie_kerwin@berkeley.eduCarrie Kerwin is a re-entry student at UCB pursuing her undergraduate degree in Anthropology and manifesting her dream of working in the field of Archaeology.
The ceremony was simple—
the mossy meadow humming with life,
the great capped peaks lying beyond,
spring sun warming our faces,
lupine flowers in my hair.
A prayer from the Old Ones told by my brother
brought tears, knowing They were there with us,
blessing our unique pairing—
your people from the north,
mine from the south.
I saw our differences then—
my skin a dusky brown, yours light and freckled,
my eyes dark as the raven’s wing, yours the color of the sea,
love communicating where our words failed to.
Earth has granted us many seasons since
and our differences have crept out of the shadows—
how you throw your scraps carelessly on the floor
after I’ve carefully swept it, can’t be bothered
with hanging up your skins,
asking me how my foraging went or
noticing my new antelope drawing on the cave wall.
Always out hunting and returning late,
stinking of sweat and blood,
your apt skills having yielded their trophy.
Yet the meat is delicious,
your muscled legs are a pleasure to behold,
and I’ve always liked a man with a strong nose
so I can’t quite regret
marrying a Neanderthal.
