ANNA LEIGH KNOWLES Burying the Time Capsule at Dark Not Long After the Columbine High School Shooting
From that day forward, we rattled inside
Weekly poems, selected by the editors. Featuring new work as well as poems from our rich archives.
From that day forward, we rattled inside
by Traci Brimhall
Out in the field, / wheat, and in the wheat, weevils.
the only light the road itself, glistening like whaleback
Every tongue leaf stomped / by child’s cleats.
The last snow / retreats into the earth to wait us out, or does it?
by Geffrey Davis
We used to sing, / facing the flag like it could hear us.
we’re ghosts / reminiscing about facial expressions
like wary caterpillars, / through the Good Thing Gallery