At eight years old we know weather advisory gray,
know what is coming. We all have our discs
at home, the wax to make them fast.
Sleds, snow cream, cocoa. The first flakes draw
their white lines down the windows while
Mrs. Marler has gone to the office to find out about school
closing. We are all terrified of her because she is so fat.
But we can’t help ourselves. Only the goody goodies stay seated.
The rest of us lunge from our seats and run down the hall
to the double doors. The brave ones go outside. I just lean
against the door. I am not bold enough to step through.
Somehow in our frenzy, we miss big Mrs. Marler coming up the sidewalk.
We scatter like pigeons in our wool sweaters and sweatshirts,
back to our desks. Mrs. Marler is furious. She makes the guilty ones
confess to leaving their seats, file in line to get paddled. I lie,
let the others take their licks. Outside, the asphalt turns white.
Joy Beshears holds a BA from Salem College and an MFA in Creative Writing from Queens University of Charlotte. Her poetry has appeared in various journals and anthologies including Surreal South, Main Street Rag, BREVITY, Southern Gothic Online, R-KV-R-Y Quarterly, Poet’s Canvas, THRIFT, In the Yard: A Poetry Anthology, Mountain Time, and Caesura. Her poem, “Rapture” was chosen by Kathryn Stripling Byer as Honorable Mention in the 2006 NC State Poetry Contest.
Rachel Kertz was born in a small town in Missouri in 1988. While earning her degree at Southeast Missouri State University, she became interested in photography and began using her commutes as excuses to go on long drives through the rural countrysides, hoping to find locations and abandoned houses to photograph. She hopes to convey relatable stories in her images that speak to her audience on themes such as loneliness, love, exploration, and the feeling of being alone in unconventionally beautiful places. You can find more of her work here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/atticgirl/