MARISA NATOLI

Poetry

Two Hours North

Marisa Natoli

I look ahead and see black cows trudging, I wish I could put a sweater on them. All the scenery beside me turns into a grey-blue. Beside the loud green sign stuck into the icy grass: “Moody County.”

“I’m just tired.” I assure myself as a knot settles in my throat. One deep breath, then two, Turn the music up, no, down. The cows are cold, Thirty minutes away, there is more snow on the ground.

I’ll feel better tomorrow, Five hours until I can sleep. A yellow sign yells, “Ice forms before the bridge.” I pick at the side of my nail. Now it’s Al Green, Whipping me with melancholy notes, Then I look down, blood.

“I’m so tired of bein’ alone.” He chants to me as if he were in the passenger seat, With a cigarette out the window. “I’m so tired of on-my-own.” And I wonder if the cows are cold.

“This picture of a farmer harvesting his crops in Sergeant Blu was put through filters to give it the appearance of a painting.” EVENING HARVEST Rae Barto photography

OCTOBER Leandra Estupinian photography

“October is a photograph of an entrance to a corn maze, taken during a full moon.”

“Summer Storm was inspired by a drive through western Kansas, a place which many people would consider to be very boring. In this piece, I aim to show the viewer the beauty and color in the mundane.”

SUMMER STORM Haylie Folsom painting