Spring 2024 Pillars of Salt

PILLARSOFSALT

The Literary Arts Magazine

THE ARCHER SCHOOL FOR GIRLS

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

THESUBLIME

Our staff met weekly as submissions trickled into our inbox throughout the spring We soon noticed a pattern - so many of the pieces submitted to the lit mag drew from utterly Romantic imagery, paying homage to the ineffable beauty of the natural world. Our theme for this issue emerged from that notion, emphasizing the impossibility of description for all things grand: the Sublime. The sublime offers a moment to pause, to look back at the beautiful things we have experienced, one-of-a-kind melodies, songs left in silence.

Seniors often feel melancholic and stuck in the liminal space between the familiarity of Archer and the novelty of a new world When fleeting time reminds us that everything can change in an instant, the sublime comforts us with the lush beauty surrounding us. We must grasp onto that as a constant.

In contrast, juniors are just beginning to grapple with ideas about what the future holds in store for us. We’re nervous, afraid, but by looking back at what we hold dear, glimpsing the natural world through a different lens, it all feels a little easier.

We often have a hard time walking forward without looking back, similar to Lot’s wife in the biblical story Against warnings of dire consequences, she succumbed to her longing, looking back to the burning city of Sodom. For her disobedience, she was turned into a pillar of salt. This story inspired our magazine’s name, and it continues to hold relevance. Instead of being punished into a pillar of salt for looking behind us, we cultivate our creative works into Pillars of Salt.

Being able to curate and produce this issue for the Archer community at this pivotal time is so special Thank you to Ms Keelty, our staff, and the incredible writers and artists who have granted us access to their creativity, giving us a window into their own exquisite contributions to the sublime. all their creativity and exquisitely sublime works.

Remember, whether we’re here to remind you or not, Submit to Lit.

Gray ‘24 and Lucine Stephan ‘25

As I watch the world

By Abigail Weiner ‘27 Digital Photography

Ella

EditorialPolicy

Ourstaffwelcomesanyandall Archerstudentstosubmittheir work Staffmaymakeasanextracurricularandaspartofthe creativewritingclass.Worksare solicitedinavarietyofways, includingpithypostersadvertising ouremailaddressforsubmissions, teacherencouragement,andword ofmouth

Atmeetings,worksare presentedanonymouslyand membersanonymouslyvote yes,no,ormaybeoneachpiece. Piecesthatreceiveagreater numberof'yes'votesthan 'maybe'or'no'votesareawarded publicationinthemagazinewith theunderstandingthateditors exercisediscretionregarding inclusionatthetimeof production.Visualworkisvoted onindependentlyfrom literarywork.

Therearenostrictlimitson thenumberofworksthatan individualcanhaveinthe magazine,noraretherelimitsto thenumberofworksfeaturedin themagazine.

ThroughPillarsofSalt,we hopetoshowcasethediversepool ofwritersandartistswehaveat TheArcherSchoolforGirls

Wedistributecopiesforfree toalllitmagstaffandeveryone publishedintheissue.Copiesare alsoavailableinourTiaPalermo library

PillarsofSaltisalsopublished online.Pleasevisitoursitetoread archivedissues: issuucom/thearcherschoolforgirls

More Information

TheArcherSchoolforGirls 11725SunsetBlvd, LosAngeles,CA90049 archerorg (310)-873-7000

481Studentsand144Faculty

PublishedApril2024 240CopiesPrinted litmag@archer.org

Fonts:Karma,NantesWeb,Inter,Cardo

Visual Art

Staff

EditorinChief

Ella Gray

Co-EditorsinChief (Production)

Ijeoma Nwafor

Chloe Resnick

JuniorEditorsinChief

Uma Nambiar

Lucine Stephan

EditorialBoard

Anaiya Asomugha

Maddie Beaubaire

Abby Borstein

Alex Bridwell

Olivia Broock

Kennedy Chow

Shayaan Gandhi

Natsnet Habtu

Maya Hernández

Eleanor Madley

Katie Ray McKillop

Lila Morgan

Natalie London

Pasha Selig

Shanthi Seth

Chiara Silveri

Nicole Svendsen

Mia Vosicher

Autumn Walker

Melinda Wang

Beatrice Washburn

Abigail Weiner

Grace Whitney

FacultyAdviser

Kathleen Keelty

Rainforest

Creative Writing Class

water seeps into the nape of the bark on the trees ripples like sound waves

I ride each technicolor swell the height of the wave soaring as high as my heart and reaching low into the depths of my stomach for some sort of answer I opened my mouth the room went blank

I couldn’t see - or hear a sound - only my closed lids inside forever stuck in a void

Lost in the total and complete darkness of my soul and found once more in unceasing radiance

Bird’s Eye

Sophia Bratman ’24 Oil on canvas

Ode to My Tears

Anaiya Asomugha ’24

Symphonyofmycries, floatthroughtheairlikepollen

Ringoutlikethetruth

Letthesoundofyourmelancholicmelody orbitmelikebeesdohoney, asthemoonsdoplanets

Gracetheearsofthoseinneed, theearsofthoselikeme

Singasoulfulharmony andpaintitwiththedeepestblues, maybeahintofburntorange

Breatheintheache breatheouttheguilt

Oh,symphonyofmycries, Lullabymebacktosleepinthemorning andawakethebirdsburiedintheirnests

WrapmeuplikeablanketonacoldNovembereve andstirmydreamsinthedeadofapeacefulnight

Dreams in Technicolor

Sophia Bromwich ’25

Digital Photography

The Earth’s Rotation

Chiara Silveri ’27

Withtheebbandflowoftheseasons, theguitargathersdust, kneesgetscrappedandnailschip, spring,winter,fall,andquitehonestly summerseemtopassby, candlesburndowntowafer-thinlayersof wax, andhairgraysatitsroots, teethgrowoutofshape, nolongerfittingintothemoldthatonce was,

Classesgetharderandsportsmore competitive, booksgetlonger, androomsrearranged, Isthereeveranythingnotchanging? Notgoingthroughaconstantcycleof metamorphosis, andevolvingintoamoredesirablebeing? Isandwillthereeverbesomethingthat staysinoneplace?

Ipicturebeingtiedtothegroundbyroots, thesestronglengthytreerootsdenymy attemptstomove, theyleavemewithnopoweror individuality, almostabsorbingmeintotheirwood, Itooamsolid, rootedtothegroundandpeaceful, suchasthemovementoftheworld, assecondstickmeticulouslyona grandfatherclock, Icanrelyonthewavestocrash, thepeopletosleep, andthestabletreeswiththeirinhaleand exhale, Icannotlivemylifemethodicallyorcontrol thedestinedeventsthatunfold. still,Icansitonthousandsofgrainsofsand, andrelyonthewatertosway, andthewavestoform

Chrysalis

Nicole Svendsen ’27 Digital Photography

Creative Writing Class Prose

Sound/Sounded

There’s something about the sound of your voice I will always recognize, there’s something about your sweet touch when you pull me cl t lik fl lik t h kid t lik laugh celestia - my yours D your h

Spring

Shanthi Seth ’27

Spring is near and I can feel it

The way I can feel the dandelions in the cool breeze

The way I can smell the sweet pollen that wafts through the air

The way I see dogs rolling in the blades of dew-covered grass

Spring is near

Spring is near and I can feel it

The way the sun waves goodbye to us an hour later

And the blue sky lingers around for longer

The way the bees fly around buzzing their melody

Spring is near

Spring is near and I can feel it

The way the hair on my arms perks up as it feels the warm sensation of the sun

The way the flowers bloom out of their confined bud

The vibrant colors lining the sidewalk leaving me almost blind

I know that spring is near

June Gloom in Bloom

Sophia Bromwich ’25

Digital Photography

Oh World

Lucine Stephan ’25

Ohworld!Icannotholdyoucloseenough, Ifeartheabundanceofyourembrace, Sparklingseasaglow,twirlingtempests Theheartswithinthinbranches,arboreals Thatgazetoyearnandnottosee, Fromcascadinghills,moltenplains, Toppledbyourspheres, Toetchedchasms,blottedasink, Rippled,ephemeral,wishedasone.

IfImustdrinkthesightofyou, Gloriousyetstillpure, Letmeremindyou,foryoursoul Echoes,abeastful,ardenttoll, Tobestrippedandtorntostrands Offuturesthatremain,starkandbland

A Cloudy Floor

Lily Grouf ’25

Digital Photography

Shallow End

Eleanor Madley ’24

Iremembertheshallowend Thewateranauseatingblue Onethatburnedmyretinas Andmynosewiththechlorinefumes

Iremembertheendlesssummer Thatthepooldidsuggest Iwouldsplashandchoreographdances,whileofftothesidedidtheoldergirlsgreedily soakupthesun,tradestories,andrest

Theshallowendwassafe

ButIdaredtocrosstheline Tofindmyselfcompletelysuspended Surpassinggravity,theyounglifeguardsshouts,andthequicklypassingtime

Floatingonmyback

Iletmylegshanglow

Iwatchedwithacranedneck,witheachbreathasmybellywouldbloat

Inultimatesurrender,Iwascradledatlast Inthearmsoftheocean,oratleastaplasteredpitthatputonagoodact

Old Earle Eleanor Madley ’24

Thestreetsareempty

Ourlaughterechosoffofsleepybuildings

Wrappinglazilyaroundlampposts Canyouhearourfootstepstumbleandtripagainstthepavement,stillwarmfrom theday'slastbreath?

Cricketschirpandmurmur

Andtheairishumidandheavyinourlungs

It’sjustusandthedrowsyblinkingofwindowsasthenightowlsand procrastinatorsandoverachieversfinallysettledowntorest Somewhereinthedistanceatrainrattlesrhythmicallyacrossthewoodenand steeltracks

Bellringing,beforefadingoffintotheopenarmsofdawn

Thestarsarehidingtonight

Peekingoutbehindthesteadyflickerofthecitylights Ifwesquinthardenough,wethinkwecanmakeoutsaturn,somewhere ahyes, theresheis

Sundayseemssofaraway

Sowesitonthecurbandsinkintobreezyconversation

Laughterliftingtheendsofourhair,caressingourcheeks

Ourvisionisblurring

Ourworldbecomeswatercolor

Wesinkintoeachother

SomewhereaboveusOldEarlebeginshisnightlyritual

Thesultryswingofthesaxophonelullsusintosilence.

The Bench

Avery Panepinto ‘27

Digital Photography

Alone

Nicole Svendsen ’27

Thedesert,sowildandbare Youfeelsoalone,justyouandtheair Youlookaround,butnooneisthere Itisjustyou,andthecold,nothingelseanywhere Youlookaround,thecloudsjustbeginningtouncoverthesun Youtrytocallout,butthereisnotone Notonepersonyoucallto,justnone Youthoughtthiswasagoodidea,butnowyouareoutoffun

Thedaysturnintomonths,themonthsturnintoyears Allofyourworries,allofyourfears Theyhavegoneaway,gotwashedoutwithyourtears Nobodyaround,justyouandthebigsphere

Theearthcontinuesgoingroundandround Butyet,yousitthereandarestillunfound Youtrycallingout,youmakealoudsound Butyouremainsittingonthathardcampground

A Place to Rest

Sophia Bromwich ’25

Digital Photography

Dear LA Beatrice Washburn ‘27

IwasonthehillwhenIfelt,forthefirsttimeinyears,thetruedawningof summer–apinkvalleysunset,thesmellofdustandbeer,littleshoesonbrown crunchyrocks–leavingathrillintheair,settingpeacefullyonthegolden mountain Movingonfromwinter,butitwasn’tsad,becausewinterwouldcome againnextyear,andChristmastime,andpitchblacknightsthatwouldmake us–patheticus–shiver Summerwouldsinkintorealitywithclearbluechlorine andconcrete,butbeforethatwouldcomespringanddreams(becausethat’sall thereistodoinspring,istodream)andthinking“wewillsoonhaveitall”.Fires burninginthedistance,memoriesslidinginfrombehind,pushingusforward asthedaysgetlonger,astheeveningglowsedgeon–butthenthefuturewould fadeaway,andtheseasonswouldpass,andwewouldstaychildren,likewe wantedtobe

Under The Same Moon

Anaiya Asomugha ‘24

Digital Photography

The Culling Fields

Avery Panepinto ’27

Inmydreams,thecullingfieldsareempty

Istandbeneaththetrees,theirlimbsheavywith deadbodies

Thesmellofdecayissharpandmakesmynoseburn

Iwalkthroughthefieldsinmydreams

Thebranchesemptyofbodiesandtheairclearof thestenchofdeath

Thecullingfieldsgoonformiles,reachingbeyond mylineofsight

Therearenoanimals

Justafewcrowssitongnarledbrancheslike unwantedomensofdeath

Irecitetherhymeoverandoverinmyhead

Oneforsorrow

Twoformirth

Threeforawedding

Fourforbirth

Fiveforsilver

Sixforgold

Sevenforasecretthatnevershouldbetold

Eightforawish

Nineforakiss

Tenforabirdyoushouldnevermiss

Elevenforwealth

Twelveforhealth

Thirteenbewareofthedevilhimself

Itwasarhymemymothertaughtmewhenshe stillshowedlove

Now,herheartisascoldasiceandhardasstone Shesitsatthediningroomtable,herunblinking darkeyesresembletheblackholesscientists tookphotosofallthoseyearsago Whenshe’supset,sheneveryells Sheneverscreams

Hersilenceisthemostpainfulpunishmentof themall

Whenpeoplearemadatme,Idon’taskfortheir forgiveness

Igetonmykneesbeforethemandbegthemto yell

Toscream

Tosaysomething

Anythingisbetterthanthesilenceoftheirrage Backinthecullingfields,Iamremindedofthe painsilencebrings

Noteventhecrowswatchingmyeverymove makeasound

Hereinthecullingfields,Iamutterlyalone Eventhebodiesonthebranchesabovemy headrefusetogiveoffapresence

Itbeginstorain

Atfirst,thedropsarescatteredandirregular Soon,it’spouring

Therainsoaksmyhairanddripsdownmyface Itabsorbsintomyshirtcausingthefabricto clingtobyskin

Aloneinthecullingfields,Iwelcometherain

PillarsofSalt-13

Ifeelinky

Will I Be Enough

Echo Meadows ’25

Blotchesofmistakescovermysins Ohgodhearmyprayer Ineverbelievedinyou

Buti'llstilltrustinthenightsky Towelcomemyincoherentsounds Undertheguiseofsomethingelse

Sapphoeasemysorrow Mythoughtsarenotmine Consumedbyaloveofsoftflesh Andeasysmiles Hername Isenoughtomakeawoman

YetIhopewithoutfaith Youoncefeltthistoo HandsandKnees

Bowedinholystrife Isanimagealoneinaroom Icannotkeep

HowcanIexpressapain Thatneverexisted Underthepretensethatyouoncedid

Doyouunderstandnow WhyIcannotbelieve?

Iwishtobeyou Nomatterwhatthatis Intherecessesofmymindmadesomuch better BecauseIwasborntobe

Perhapsfaithisrootedinintelligence Butmybonesareyettofeelthatwarmth SoinsteadIbegtheuniverse

Ignoremeforalittlewhilelonger Grantmeonemoremomentinherarms BeforeIdie

Thatismyheaven

PillarsofSalt-14

Thatismyheaven

Forvictoryischeaplyboughtbythosewho werenevermeanttowin Beingstrongisnotastrength Whenstaringintotheeyesofan unacceptabletruth Caughtinabeartrap

Whatdidittaketobeatme? Whentherewasnoreasontofight

MaybeSheherselfisgod InsteadofthecapitalHeiknow Whosespeciousnaturebeckonedthosetolove andhatredalike

ForHernamerollsoffmytongue WithaconfessionIneverthoughttowhisper

Fillmylungswithwater Anddrownmeinthemud Asasacrifice

Unnecessaryasitmaybe Affectionsarenotenough Toqualmtheshatteredperception Ofherwrath

Butlovehasbeenthedrivingreasonfor greaterwars

Soripmylarynxoutinstead Inthematrimonyvow Ofsilence

Starvationisworse Whenwatchingamorbidfeast Inwhichyoucannotpartake Righteousnessisaweakexcuse

ForthesewordsIcast Inadesperatehopeofresolution Whencaughtbyadeity Theyknow,

Ifgiventhechanceyouwouldeat

Spin For Them

Sophia Bratman ‘24 Oil on canvas

PillarsofSalt-15

Late Summer

Ella Gray ‘24

Sprintingthroughcobblestonealleyways Nighttime’sbreathswarmeduslikebees, Engulfingoursenses Infiltratingourveins

ThebriskAugustairasweetremedy ForJuly’sbitterheat Wedanceunderstreetlamps, Ourplaidpajamapantsticklethestones, Dampfromtheafternoon’sdownpour, Perfectlyaskew. Bubblinglaughterricochetsoffthealleys Aswechaseoneanother

Takemebacktolatesummer Flowydress-ladendays andcoat-burrowednights

Roamingmoonlitstreets

Thesixofus, tripping andsliding andstumbling Gaspingforair betweenhiccupsandlaughs Summernight’sbreath Seepingintoourlungs Burningandbrewing Fervidandbeautiful.

Views of Arrow Week

Sophia Bromwich ’25

Digital Photography PillarsofSalt-16

Ich Liebe Dich

Lucine Stephan ’25

Hidden in between the stucco corners lies a misshapen garden, collapsing down a hill, waiting where its edge meets the street. Within it lies small trees, bare of leaves, and snowy grass, each tip covered with a tendril of frost Wildflowers and the fuzzy, round bumblebees are absent- the garden, I suppose, is left unclothed without its flowered robes. Over the hill greets a sprawling town, timber frame houses with curtains drawn, melting icicles dripping on the shingles, and a church'staperedbrickroofglintinginthedimlight.

I stand behind this world, watching my reflection in the window, fingertips pressed against the chilled glass, unflinching. My breath is warm against the cold material, puffs of air lie like clouds, obscuring my vision of the tilted garden. The only thing left to glimpse are the wind chimes and late Christmas lights, hung on the garden’s patio They remain still and sleeping, no harmonious jingles or festive glimmers disruptthesilenceofthechillair,stillandgrayandheavy

Ode to Cape Cod

Kennedy Chow ’25 PillarsofSalt-18

CapeCodIloveyou

Iloveyoursaltyairandpowderybeaches Youaremyutopia,mygardenofEden Imaynotbereligious,butifIwereyou’dbemyplaceofworship Youareamagnet,constantlydrawingmenear

I’veneverbeenpartialtothebeach

ButI’dspendallofmyfreetimeonyoursandmadeofcrushedstars Watchyourmelodic,bluewaves;theirsoundslullingmetosleep I’mforeveraddictedandlongingforyourlushforestsandsandyplains

Istareoutthecarwindow

Reminiscingonallyourlittletowns Eachoneuniqueandimpossiblyirresistibletostopby IwishIwasalighthouse Permanentlyobservingthebeachandboats,dwellinginyourbeauty

Butfornow,Iwillsticktosummervacations

Notlastinglongenoughtofullymarvelatyourbeauty CapeCodIyearnforyou,sufferingwithdrawalsymptomswhenIleave Buttheschoolyearisnowout,andsummerishere

Uninhabited

Chiara Silveri ‘27

Shellsdotthecoast, Thoseleftbehindleaveimpressionsinthesand, Likecurioushandsinwetcement, Oceantrashisspunintointricatedesigns, Seeminglymeltedlikeglassandcastintotheequivalentofachandelier, Sculptedbytheseaanditscreatures, Thebackandforthoftheoceansmoothesedgesandencouragescurves,

Veryfewfootprintshavestainedthesand, Gracedthebeachwiththeirpresence, Orlefttheirmarkonthemilesofkhakibeach, Althoughminusculecrabsmaketheirappearance, Scurryingacrossthetaninadarkredandpurewhite, Theyaresharp,scary,livingcreatures, Butcapableofgood.

Thesuniswatchingover, Assheshedsherlightonthebodyofwater, Sheattractsnobeadyeyesorjealousglances, Butprovidesanampleamountoffruit, Andleavesflakedhollowcoconutstohanglikealoosetooth, Byathread,

Barelyattachedtotheirtrees, Thereissomethingsereneaboutthisuninhabitedland, Ithasnotyetbeencorrupted.

Meet Me at The Lake Maddie Beaubaire ’25

Acrylic Painting

PillarsofSalt-20

Chasing August

Eleanor Madley ’24

Catchingontongue,bubblestrapthemselvesinthebackofmythroat

Theyexplodeinburstsofwarmthandgiddiness

Iamsafe,Iamfreeatlast

Overgrowngrass,goldenbythehandofthesun

Strumsagainstmyanklesflirtatiously

Iamseen,Iamheardatlast

Latenightsspentintertwined,myanklecrossingoveryours

Itisintheweehoursofthemorningthatourheartsmeltintoone,beatingin timewiththecricketswingsthatthumpinsingingrhythm

Iamloved,Iammyselfatlast

Sippingonsunlight,Idrinkupeverylastdrop

Greedily,Ilickmytongueacrossmylips

AsIinhalethefirstbreathofautumn.

La Fleuve

Sophia Bromwich ’25

Digital Photography

Paradise Natsnet Habtu ’25

Aplacefullof cracks screams

Darkgraycloudsencompassingthehouse Asunflowerdrenchedandslouchedinthe Hardrain Iwanttogohome

WhereamI?

Listeningtotheoceansounds Thesoundsofwaitingpatience Theclarityoftheglisteningsunreflectingthelight Intotheblueclearsea

Singlestandingbrightsunflower grewinwiththelittlepotofdarkblackdirt withthesunmirroringitslight Ontothesunflower

Birds of Paradise Chiara Silveri ’27

Digital Photography

thelittlespecklesofpastelbrownsand Withtallandleaningpalmtrees Itisjustparadise

Ilivehereforever

Can you paint?

Anaiya Asomugha

’24

Picturemyheartasablankcanvas foryoutogentlybrushwiththewarmest ofgoldsandyellowsasyouseefit Or,ifthecolorssomoveyou, splatteritwiththeblacksandreds thatreplacedyourdearlydepartedsmile Hideawayyourenviousgreens, andkickyourachingbluesunderourcoldbed Leavemelovelorn

leavemetrivializedaloneinthisroom mimickingthesilence ofourrosypinkscollectingdust onanearbyshelf

Foreign Figure

Bratman ’24

Rage of a God

Avery Panepinto ‘27

Everythingstartedoutwonderful,livingsidebysidewithyourlover

Notacareorfearintheworld

Youtwowereindomitable,unstoppable Onewasagod,theothermortal,butbothwerethekingsoftheirownworld

Kingshavehonor,theyhavepowerandstrength

Buttheyhavejealousyandrage Theyseemperfect,buttheymakemistakes

Somemistakescomewiththepriceofalife

Thesemistakesarewhathauntuslikeaghost Theyfollowusmortalstoourgraves,butforgods,aneternity

Thelifelostwascausedbyyourowngodlyhandsinamomentofjealousy Hediedinyourarms

Thesamearmshefoundcomfortin

Hisdeathfloodedyouwithsorrowandgriefforyears Butsoon,thatgriefmeltedintoamonster,amessofrageandfury Yourainedplagueafterplagueonthosewhomis-stepped

Oneheroinparticulartestedeverylimityouheld Theherofollowedyoursonwhosoughtrefugeinyourtemple,andkilledhim HekilledanothersonandparadedaroundthewallsofTroy,yourson’sbody dragginginthedirt

Hedidunspeakablethingstoanothersonwho wasjustbarelytwelveyearsold

Youhadeveryrighttostrikehimdown, butyoucouldnotdoitdirectly Instead,youkilledtheonehelovedmostsohecouldfeelthesamepainyoufelt whentheoneyouloveddiedinyourarms

Standing

Statue

Charlotte Titmarsh ’27

Graphite on paper PillarsofSalt-25

I am an insomniac Ijeoma Nwafor ‘24

Itlendssleepinessasortofurgency, likeifrestisnear,it'sonitswayout soonerratherthanlater.

AndIlearn siezethesleepwhileican get(ar)restswhileit'sthere

Icanfeelit,youknow, justbeforethedreamends, thepressureofmyrestlessness forcingmyeyesopen wellbeforetheirdue wellbeforethey'redue

Assuming, ofcourse, thatIgettosleepatall.

It'skindofironic,isn'tit? thatrestlessnessleavesmerestless. ormaybethat'snotirony, butjustwhatthewordmeans astateofbeing, anditsinevitableconclusion.

Buteitherway, withoutrest mistakesareboundtohappen

Sometimesitbuildsup untilitfeelslike allthechoicesImakearewriteorwrong oruntilitseems thatallthatIhaveareproseandcons

Andtheonlywaytofixthatis youguessedit rest

ButI'velearnedthehardway thatIcan'trushrest Ihavetoapproachitlikeacat. thatis,Ihavetonotapproachitatall. justwait,andletitcometome

SoI'mawake butIfeeltheurgency tolivenowandliveright andIfeel thepressureofmyrestlessness Ifeel itbuildingupandup butI'mfightingitthebestIcan becausemorethananything Iwanttolivebut lifeisadreamand Iamaninsomniac Pulpy Purple

Meet me at the Willow Eleanor Madley’ 24

lapiz swimming pools and pink glitter tattoos

mermaids in the water and polka dot shoes

Big white moon, each constellation a reminder of you

Ribbons and Lace

Your untouched face I need your rising sun For my life has just begun

Glass Slippers and Pearls

Your soft auburn curls witchcraft and potions secret letters of devotion

Play with me

Let me see Every small thing Your sun and shine bring

Rise with me

Run so we

Can catch stars in glass jars sweet light is all we need

Do you remember how You came up and pulled my sleeve

You stubbed your toe on the big oak tree

Caught in your hands a bumble bee I said you ought to set her free

Now you ' ve got a woman by your side

You wear her smile with a heart full of pride

She let you in a little too far inside

Now you ' ve got her caught, and she cant fly

We ruled the seven seas

From ivy overgrown balconies

We cut the cats hair

Cause honey, rules just aint fair

I'm still waiting for my rainbow

But now I'm sitting alone, at my moms

kitchen table

Waiting for you to come on home

So please meet me at the willow

Right word and you'll pass Behind our green sea of hanging grass

Lay your head in the cradle of my lap

She whispers melodies with her leaves as we nap...

We are the Sun and the Moon

Selah Johnson ‘26

Wearethesunandmoon

Theysayyouradiatelight,younaturallyandunapologeticallyshineinmyglowing eyes

Youblindme,butprovidemethisinconsistentlydesirableenergyIcrave

YoucouldargueI’minconsistentaswell,IwaxandwanewhenIplease

TheysayIcarrywithmethisplagueofintenseromance

Iamaforeverchangingplanet,andIoftendareyoutokeepup

Wearethesunandmoon

Youburnme,butwithoutyouIamcolderthanthenightItakecomfortin

Webalanceeachother,andeversooftenwealignperfectly

Whyisityoueithergivemeeverythingornothing Ican’tblameyouforburningmebutIdoblameyouforgettingsoclose

Closeenoughtobroilmyskin,bubblingwithyourproximity

Yourapidlyageme,andIcannotforgiveyouformeltingawaymyyouth

Youexhaustme

Despiteallelse,youaremysun

Ourorbit,nomatterwherewestand,remains Inwinteryouhid,butasSpringcreepstowardsmeIpraytothestarsyourheat returns Iamthemoon

Fullandsacred,riddledwiththiscelestialanddivinefeminineenergy

You’vecravedmebefore,andI’llshinehere,waitingforyourreturn Ibegofyoutodreamofmeatnight,forwhenyousleep,Iaskthestarstolookover you

Ourexistencewasdesignedbythegalaxy,sowhetherit’sinthisuniverseora universe100lightyearsaway, Wearethesunandmoon

PillarsofSalt-28

There are words we think are scary

Eleanor Madley ‘24

Therearewordswethinkarescary

Obscene,big,daunting

Theystarebackfromthepage,evillittleeyespeeringatus throughtheopenspacesintheo’se’sb’sp’sq’s

Theyhurttoread,lipsunsure,tonguetwitching Repeatedandrephrased,thesewordsareslipperyandhardtohold onto Butteronatelephonepole,freshlyappliedpolishonthewoodfloor

Movingtoofastisinevitable Slippingandtrippingandstallingbeforefalling again

Therearewordswethinkarescary

Hurtful,traumatic,dirty

Coveredinathicklayerofdustandsiltandgrime,theyleave smudgemarksinmybrain

Stainingmymouthwithtar,stickyandblackandhardtoswallow

Theyhurttospeak,lipsmovingtoofast,tonguelikeaviper Repeatedandrephrased,thesewordsarebarbedandmakeyour gumsbleed

Yousmile,triumphantintheinstantblissofyourinsult Bloodspills,uncontrollablyfromthegapsbetweenyourteeth,the sealofyourlips

Youreyestartstotwitch,smilefalters,worry,confusion,whathave Idone

WhathaveIdone

Yourwordsaredone. Sealed

MyTurn

To Mourn Ijeoma Nwafor ’24

Suchlightisthereindarknessgrows, Thatshadowsonwallsfaroffthrows, Inmourninghourwebegtopay, Inanyotherearthlyway. Shieldbrothers,maidens,hounds,andthen, Whoseeyeswillnevergleamagain, Betrothed,beloved,hated,scorned, Bysomeone,somewhereevermourned

Fathers,mothers,daughters,sons, Whonowhavefoundtheirracesrun; Theirworkundonetheirwordsunsaid, Whowandernowhallsofthedead

Butstill,welovethoseinourlives, Whileknowingeverybodydies; Soasyourcheekswithtearsarestained, Holdcloseyourlovedonesthatremain.

A Wild Woman Like Harjo

Maya Hernández ’27

Sittingataweatheredchair,thecirclesofwoodsandeddowntakingyearsofthe treeslife

Myirisesdartingupanddownatthemansittingatableaway Hisnimblefingerstakingapartcellphonesandtrinkets,Ipracticemindingmyown business

IwillneverseethediversityoftheworldlikeIdointhelibrary

Textsfromdecadesago,keptcleanwithplasticdustcovers

Hereallresponsibilitiesflee,mysoulisfree,IcanbewhoeverIplease,nooneknows me

WhenIamhereIamamorninggloryflower,patronsseeayoungwomanholdinga titleclosetoherchest

DotheyknowIappearsweet,butpoisonrunsinmyveins?

Myskinispaintedpurple,butwhenmybloodisdrank,Ikill

Myfavoritedaysspentherereadingscrawledlovenotesleftonfrontpagestonow lostlovers

Booksaremorningglories,chokingmeyetgivingmesecondsofair,keepingme comingbackformore

Thevalvesofmyheartquickenwhenseeingaheartorcircleleftonasentence

Whatdidthispersonseeinthis?

Diditremindthemofmemory? Orperhapsitmadethemlaugh?

WhenIshowasmile,othersbelieveImustbeenjoyingafairy-tale

WhatifItoldyouastoryofhorrorbroughtagrintomylips,amorbidlullaby

Whenamansittingtablesawaythinkshecancornerandtalktome,theyrather spendtimehallucinating

ForIamamorningglory,enticing,butit'sclevertokeepyourdistance

Simply Horrid!

Anaiya Asomugha ‘24

Duringthemosthorridmorning ofahorridsummer’sday Ithoughtofyourbeautifullyhorridhair andthewayithorridlybounces Irememberedthehorridlaugh thatrangthroughouttheroom whenyouwhisperedhoneyedwords inmyear

Howhorridlyyoufit likethelastpieceofadifficultpuzzle andhowhorridlyyousmile asyoutriedwhiskmeawaydown amarbledstaircase Andsure,itwashorrid, whenItumbleddownthem Andequallyashorridwhen Ispilledthedrinkonmydress Butthere’snothingmorehorrid thanourplayfulsmilesor howfastmyheartbeats whenIthinkofdearold,horridyou

Where the Money Tree Grows

Natalie

London ’26

Greenwithyouthfulness,ayounggirl walksdownthestairswitha calculatedtenderness Whensheturns thecornerintothekitchen,the room 'ssicklysweetnessisallconsuming.Ithasanuncanny vivaciousnesstoit,asifhavingbeen infusedwithundilutedjoy.Hereyes gapeatthefloorscoatedinathick layerofhoneyandthewalls laminatedwithmaplesyrup When herfeetreachthesugarysubstance, shefeelsapushfromtheverybricks ofthehome,tellinghershemust leave Thestickinessofthefloor, meanttotrapeventhesmallestof prey,rejectsher Thekitchen applianceshavebeenreplacedwith gummies,chocolates,andanythingof thesort.However,whenshereaches forthecanopenermadeofcaramel, shefeelsasharpburn Youdonot belonghere,itbarks Achild'sdream, justnotmeantforher.Shehurriesto largewindowsdisplayingaflawless backyard;amorequintessentialimage couldneverhavebeenthoughtof.If shelooksattheglassatjusttheright angle,shecancatchglimpsesof herself.Sheappearsinblackand

white,herfeaturesblurringintoone another.Noseblendswithcheek, brainblendswithheart,andeyes blendwithskin Thatiswhenshesees it–themostincrediblefeatshe’d everwitnessed:atreelargeenoughto houseajungle,withmoney protrudingfromitsdensewood. Twentydollarbillslitterthefloorand hundredsdrowninthepool,too muchmoneytoeverknowwhattodo with.Thetreeisaliveineverysense oftheword,itsimmensepower emanatingfromeachbranchand twig Shefearsherbonesmaysnap fromitsrawjoy,radiatingtowards herwiththestrengthoftenSuns In theblinkofaneye,thegirlfalls victimtothetree'sallureandstands nexttoitstrunk.Voicesbegin dancingaroundherhead,comingin oneearandleavingouttheother Takeabite,theysing Gohome,they recite.Youarenotworthyofthetree, theychant.Shefeelsherarm reachingup,graspingthevelvet material.Sheweavesthedollar betweenherfingers,astonished Take abite,gohome,youcannotpretend tobelong,theychant.

Sheknowswhattheywant,butcannot beartoleavesosoon Withoutnotice, windthrustsherhandupwardsandthe girlfeelshermonstrousteethsinkinto thetendermoney.Thepiecesquickly disintegratewithinher,momentarily circulatingtheirblissthroughouther body Ittastesoftheloveandhopeand sweetnessshehasbeencraving.Thisis whattheworldismadeof,shethinks. Thatisuntilhermouthfloodswitha sourtoxicity.Sheripsherhandfromher mouth,onlytofindalemonwithvicious fangmarkscarvedintoitsside Thatis whenthestormbegins Shedoesnotsee thecloudsmoveinbeforethedownpour ensues,drenchingherandthepuny lemontreebeforeher.Thehousehas

becomealmostasdullasher,thewalls nowcoatedinuglytar Everyfiberof thehousewelcomesherbacklikethe otherhomeneverdid.Withtears streamingdownherface,shemourns thelossofhermoneytreeandits incrediblekindness,thoughitwasnever herstobeginwith Shemournsthejoy ofherhouseandthesweetnessofher kitchen,thoughitwasnevermadefor her. Sheseesasmallerversionof herself,overflowingwithgleeand mournsherpast Sheseesanolder versionofherself,teemingwithdoubt andmournsherfuture Withbitter lemonsmearedacrossherface,sour fragmentsintertwinedinherteeth,she hasasickeningrealization.Iamhome.

Moon & I

Ella Gray ‘24

“Moon,tellme Willeverythingbe alright?”

Icannotpreventthehottears prickingatthecornersofmyeyes, threateningtowell overatany minute.Hercratersseemtomeltinto agentle,comfortingsmile.My waveringbreathevensoutagainstthe bitterwinterairandthetearsfade frommyeyes.Thewispygreyclouds encompassingtheskyaremenacing; almostenvelopingherentirely.They castaneerieyetalluringshadow aroundher,andIcan’thelpbut wonderwhatitwouldbeliketobe closertothemoon

Ipicturemyselfuponamountain, likethebearin“HappyBirthday, Moon,”achildhoodfavoritepicture bookofmine.Iletthesamewords fallfrommylips-ahappyaccident.

“HappyBirthday,Moon.”

JustasIsaythat,sheshines impossiblybrighter.Hermilkyraysof moonlightcastabeamof shimmeringlightdownonme;I batheinherincandescentglow.

“It’safullmoontonight Doyou feelfull?”

AsIaskthat,thecloudsdimher figure,blurringherfrommyview She doesn’tfeelfull,Icantell Something ismissing.Isupposethatshehas internalandexternalcraters.Wounds thattimemayneverheal;crevices forgedfromlossandburdensand heartbreak.She’sjustlikeus.Justlike me.

“AreyoujealousofmeasIamof you?”

Herglowpeeksbackintoview, seeminglyintriguedbymyquestion I supposesheis Jealousthatshe doesn’thavesmoothskinblessedto roamtheEarthwithcuriosityasher

PillarsofSalt-36

drivingforce,constantlyseekingout loveandadventure

Jealousthatmostofus,ashumans, havetheluxuryofhuggingandkissing andlaughingandcryingand screamingandsinginganddancing andshriekingandbreathingand running…everythingwetakefor granted,sheyearnsfor.Herheart acheswitheveryburstofbubbling laughter,everywarmandtight embrace,everyjump,everysong,every heartbeat,everywakingbreath Her onlycompany-thestars,andour everydayexperiencesshecanonly witness,neverindulgein

ButIamjealousofher.Hernatural beauty.Herabilitytowitness everything-Iwantitall.Tobask amongstthestars.Tolivevicariously throughamereglance.Iwanttosee. Tofeel.Towatch.I’vealwaysbeenan observer,butfromtoocloseup.Ilong toobservefromafar.Togetthefull picture Iwanttobelovedand admiredthroughallmyphases To follow Tosearch Tolongfor somethingoutofmyreach Longingis abitRomantic,don’tyouthink?

Themarinelayerbeginstocastan eventhickershadowovermymoon andIburrowdeeperintomycoat, winter’sbitterbreathfinallycatching uptome.Myeyesfeelheaviernow.My moonispreparingtohitpeak brightnessat12:54amwhenshe becomestrulyfull.Ihopeshefinds outwhatitfeelsliketobeentirelyfull oneday IhopeIdotoo Ibidher farewellfortheevening Shekissesme goodbyewithhermilkymoonlight

“Goodnight,Moon”

Let it pour Abigail Weiner ‘27

Theclearskystrikeswithclouds Lookingdown Watching

Thecloudsgetlouderandmaderwitheachpoundingsecond TheygetheavyClosingdown

Thelandlookingupexpecting, Expectingtomeltdown

Theangerinsteadgetsleftinside

Thewindpushesthecloudstoletitout Letthecloudsgrowapart

Leteverythinggobacktoitshappyself Itwilltaketimebutinthemeanwhile Letitpour

Somewhere Maddie Beaubaire ‘25 Digital

Did I miss it?

Abigail Weiner ‘27

Iwatchedstandingontheslipperydock Myworldisnowsettosea

Isawthismoment,butnotyet Notknowingthatmyalarmisnowmyenemy Butisit

Rightontimewatchingmesleep

Beepingsournotestogetattention Istayedinmyperfectworld

MyalarmremindsmeoftheshorttimeIhaveleft MyheartremindsmethatIhavetodoitnow Mymindscreamingalltheworkitis

Thenthetasksailsaway

Iwatchasifaperfectflower Nowcrumbledoutofmyreachisruin

Iwatchasitsinks Down Down Down

Capture Life

Maddie Beaubaire ’25 Collage

Don’t judge me, I’m tired Ijeoma Nwafor ‘24

Whyareyoucarryingthetire? Itisasadtire. Soyoucarry?

SoIcarry. Willyounottire?

Iwillnottire, ifwedonottarry; thistireIwillcarry. Andifwetarry?

...thenImaytire. Andifyoutire?

ThenImightrestthetire Restthetireoryourself?

Restthetiretorestmyself. And,thusresting,thetireissatontheground?

Yes,itisasattire Therestissattire?

Partly. Butifwedon’ttarry,andsotire? Icarrytore-tire. Toretire?

Yes,tore-tiremycar Soit’sasadtirebecauseit’sspare?

It’ssadbecauseit’snotspared. Becauseit’snotsparedfromwork? Itisalazytire. Neverworkedadayinit’slife? Notone

Andso,sadtojoinaretiredcar?

Notyetre-tired, notwhilewetarry. Ifnottowork,whythatattire?

Idon’tjudgeit’sclothes Nojudgment,justasking;why?

Idon’tknow,entire, Ithinkitjustlikesit. Isn’tblackrubberabitdated?

Imean,it’satretirementage Goodpoint,thisconversationtoo? Probably. Well,sorryaboutyourcar.

The Truth

Uma

Nambiar ‘25

Thumpthumpthumpgoesmyheart

Arteriestwistingandturningand boilingtothetippingedge

Holdingtightbutneverquiteslipping intotheabyssof‘forgetitall’

Iseeitthough,rightbelowme

Standingontheedgeofdespair

Abouttofallandcryandshout andfall

Tellme,shesays,areyouokay?

I’mokaybutnotokay

I'mfinebutnotfine I'mhandlingitbutI'mnot.

Athousandwordsfloodthecrevices ofmysoul

Swirlingandthreateningto Pushpushpush

Untilitbursts

Fromthestressoftheconstanthurt

Oftheboulderthatsitsonmychest likeaprimitiveanimal

Likeaninstinctthreadedfromshame

Ineedittobeover

Ineedthewaterstoebbdownto thesea

Andsparkleinsteadofcreepilyglow Iwantittostop

Thefour,five,seventhousandtests

OfwhoIamasanindividual

Theysayitdoesn'tmatterbutitdoes ITDOES

College

Theimpendingdauntingweightofa never-endingspiral

WillIgetinorwillInot?

Toomanytears

Mycheeksareleftstreaked

Stainedforever Forever

Trulyforever

DoyouunderstandwhatI'msaying?

DoyouunderstandwhatI’msaying?

DoyouunderstandwhatI’msaying?

It’stoomuchandI’mtootired

AndIjust.Don’t.Want.to.Do.it. Pleaseletitend

Ijustwanttobeagoodstudent Ijustwanttobeworthsomething Ijustwanttobeunique

Ijustwanttobeme

Time Flies: The struggle of leaving loved ones

Tavi Memoli ’25

Overthelast16yearsthatIhavespent onthisplanet,nothinghasstayedmore consistentthanmymother’slove Iam fortunateenoughtohavegrownupwith thebestgiftofall:anincrediblystrong, supportive,kind-heartedmomwho woulddoanythingforme

Igrewupasanonlychild,andbecause ofthis,mymomisnotonlymymom butalsomybestfriend.Ifeellikewe grewuptogether.Whilethatmight soundcrazy,consideringmymomhad meattheageof40,somethingabout livingalonetogethermadeitfeellikeit wasjustherandmefacingtherestof theworld

Allmylife,mymomandIhavelivedin ourlittlecondo Whileitsexteriorstands small,itsdooropenstoaworldof memorythatsparksfamiliarscent, taste,touch,soundandscenerythat havestayedwithmymomandmeforas longasIcanremember.

Growingup,autumnwithherwas comforting.Icanalmosttastethe irresistible,saltypuffsofmashedpotato wewouldtastetesteveryfiveseconds Thearomaticscentsofherbandgarlic clingtoourpotsandpansoverthe warmovenwhereourturkeycooks patiently Whenthefoodwasdone,we’d writeaboutwhatwewerethankfulfor anddigintothemélangeoffoodthat overwhelmedourdiningroomtable

Inwinter,Irememberbakingcookies withherinourmatchingcherry aprons,hangingornamentsonthe ChristmastreeinlateNovemberand reminiscingaboutthememoriesthey eachbringtolife Irememberour skatesclickingagainstthethick, chilledcrustoftheicerinkand comingbackhometowatchour favoriteclassicChristmasmovie:“Elf”

Then,springwouldcome,andsowould Easteregghuntsthroughoutourlittle condo.I’dlayinbedanxiouslywaiting formymomtofindhercamcorderso shecouldfilmmyfacelitwithjoy afterfindingeacheggcarefullyhidden aroundourhome.

Summerbroughtthevividevocation ofhungerasmymomandIwould browsetablesofproduce,cheeses,jams andbreadstogetheratourlocal farmersmarket Blueskieshungabove usatthebeachwherewewatchedthe wavesbreatheinandoutaswe collectedseashellsalongtheshore

Onceagain,theautumnwindsusher beautifulleaves,warmscentsof cardamomandareminderofanew chaptersoontocome.Achapterina newplace,atanewhome:college.My roommateandIandourlittledorm Thethoughtofitalmostscaresme.It’s unreal.

Ofcourse,Iamonlyajunior,andit’s notlikeIamleavingforcollegethis year,butIknowthatthetimeflies I knowthatsoonenough,I’llbeasenior packingmybagstoheadofftocollege, sayingmygoodbyes,andthiswillall feellikeyesterdayandadistant memoryatthesametime.

SowhathappenswhenIleaveourlittle condo?Athoughtthathadnever crossedmymindgrowingup,itnow feelsmoreprevalentthaneverwith senioryeararoundthecorneranda realizationthathomewillnotbehome forever.Sure,I’llendupbuyingmyown apartmentoneday,ormaybeevena house,butnohousewillbethesameas thehomeIgrewupin.Hometome meansmorethanjustfourwallsanda roof Homeiswithmylovedones, especiallymymom.

Aswegrowup,notonlydowehaveto facetherealizationthatchildhoodand adolescencewon’tlastforever,butthat thepeoplewehavespentthemajority ofourliveswithwillsoonbetheones wemissmost.Thesekindsofconscious understandingsareoftenwhatmake usscaredoflettinggo Whatwedon’t alwaysunderstandisthatwhenwe leavealovedone,weneverfullyletgo.

Thefactthatmytimelivinginourlittle condoisalmostuphasmademerealize howpreciousthetimeIhaveleftliving withmyfavoritepersonreallyis Sheis myrock,myguideandthereasonIthrive andwillcontinuetoafterIgraduateand leaveourhomebehind WhatIwon’t leavebehindareourmemories.Theyare whatshapedmeintothepersonIam today Tolosethosememorieswouldbe tolosemyself

Onourjourneytowardslifeafterhigh school,wecanonlybringsomuchina suitcase,butthememorieswepossess withthepeopleweloveandthelessons welearnfromthemremainapartofus AsIcontinuetofacelife’strialsand tribulationsandtherealitythathigh schoolwillsoonbeover,onethingisfor certain:Iwillalwayshavemymom

By Abigail Weiner ‘27

Not Just One of the Bunch

Digital Photography

Book 9: Invasion of the Blood-Hungry Men

Vivianne Arnold’

26

Polyphemus,thegreatcyclops strodeaboutinthefieldashetendedto hisflock

Hewatchedthemgrazeandprideswelled inhischest, fortheywerethefinestinalltheland anditwasaveryfineland.AlltheCyclops islandwasfilledwithgreatbounty–Lushcropsandflowingwaters

SentfromPolyphemus’sfatherPoseiden WhoprovidedalltheCyclopscould everneed.

Itwasablessedland–Poseidonneverdid showhisface

Butallknewhewasthefatherfrom hisgifts

Powerfulinhisruleoftheseas,despiteall harshtreatment

AtthehandsofZeus.

Lookingoverhislife’swork,Polyphemus wassatisfied Heled

Theflocksbacktowardshishome

Alargecave,lefttohimbyagood friend,Erastus

tosuitthegloryofPolyphemus’ achievements

YearsagohadErastusbeentakenby humans–cameintohishomeand calledhim

Amonster

ButthecavePolyphemusfilledwithhis love,andsoErastus

Wasatpeace,hehoped

Thegreatcyclopsherdedtheflockintohis home,butonlythefemales. Theycouldnotmateyet,formatingisas importanttomonitorasanypart

Ofthedelicateprocess,andoffspringbred underafullstormmoonwerebest

Polyphemushadlearnedthroughyearsof carefulwork.

Noonemuchwasleftonthisisland–no onemuchhedaredtocallfriend

WithoutErastus,buttheflock,atleast hecouldcareforthem.

Onceinside,Polyphemus,thegreatartist Milkedeachanimalwithgreatattention andagentletouch

Forasmuchastheproductionofcheese washiscraft

Sotoowasthesafekeepingandfriendship oftheseanimals

Atlast,hisworkdone

Andagooddayfinished,thecaretaker feltsatisfactionbloom

Allthroughouthischest Sohesetoutto lightafire

Towarmandlightshadows–perhaps createashow–buthisdreaming

Wasstoppedbyanunwelcomesight. Allaroundhimandateveryturn crouchedmen

Humanmenlikethekindthathaddone awayErastus

Poisedandglaring,theirbodieshardened withexperience

Andfacesgrizzledfromwar Aroundthemwasstrewnallthecheeses Polyphemushadworkedtirelessly toperfect

Gone–ravagedinaninstant. ThesemenPolyphemussaw

Hadinvadedhishome–watchedhim workinsilence,waiting Fortheirmoment.Hadhenotlitthefire, wouldtheyhavesprung?

Takenhislifewithhimneverknowing? Orweretheyaftertheflock–

Hisprizedpossession,hislife’swork The protectorfeltagreatfuryovertakehim Andhecriedout

“Strangers!Nowwhoareyou? Wheredidyousailfrom,overthe runningsea-lanes? Outonatradingspreeorrovingthe waveslikepirates,

PillarsofSalt-44

Sea-wolvesraidingatwell,whorisk theirlives

Toplunderothermen?”

Andoutsteppedaman,shortandpuny Whospoketoalltheworldasthoughhe wereagiant’sheight: “MenofAchaeaweareandboundnow fromTroy!

Drivenfaroffcoursebythe warringwinds, Overthevastgulfofthesea–battlinghome onastrangetack,aroutethat’soff themap, Andsowe’vecometoyou… SoitmustpleaseKingZeus’s plottingheart.”

Thefightercontinuedtalking,proudto havebeenatwar

Chestoutasthoughhiskillingwasthe greatestachievement

InPolyphemus’shouse,tospeakofZeus!

Thedestroyer,thetaker,whonevercared Foranykindbuthisown,whoshunned andhumiliated

PoseidonandtheCyclopsinfavorofthe wickedAthena

“Stranger,”grumbledthecyclops,pulling intohisthroat

Alltheloveinhisheart,“youmustbea fool,stranger,orcomefromnowhere, Tellingmetofearthegodsoravoid theirwrath!”

Polyphemusyelledatthemenwithall hisheart,

Hopinghisbreathandspitmightforce themawaywithnoneed

Forbreakingbones.Whyhadtheycome tohishome?Soheasked, Wherelaytheship?

Thepunymanspoke,saying“Myship?

Poseidongodoftheearthquake

Smashedmyship,hedroveitagainstthe rocksatyourisland’sfarcape, Hedasheditagainstacliffasthewinds rodeusin.Iandthemenyousee Escapedasuddendeath.”

SoPoseidon,theformidablegod,the providerofallthelands thatPolyphemusandhisfellowsheldso dear,appreciatedsogreatly Hadwantedthesemendead Hadtriedhisbesttosmashtheirheads Andpreventthemfromcomingto Polyphemus’shome. Therewasnotellingwhythesemen hadcome, Norwhytheseagod,hisfather,wanted themdead

Polyphemusdidnotknow–butfor hisfather,

Forhisflock,hewouldfinishwhathad beenstarted Polyphemussetouttoprotect hishome

Hesmashedthemenagainstthestone ashisfatherhaddone, Hardashecouldtoensuretheywould notfeelmuchpain

Butforthesurvivingmen,towarn themaway

Fromcrossinghim,hedevoured thedead

Asthemenhaddevouredhiswork Ateallofthem–nobloodstainslefton thefloor

Hewouldnotmakeamessofhis alreadyscarredhome

Themencowered,buttheprotector knewtheywerestrong. Helaynearhisbelovedanimals, Watchingthementoseewhatthey mightdo.

Thestonedoorwasheavy–butnotso heavyasitlooked Iftheywerewise,theywouldlet themselvesout Leaveandnotcomeback

Polyphemuswatchedthem Hegrewtired,andsomewherein hisfear

Hedriftedofftosleep.