Archer’s Literary Magazine “Pillars of Salt” publishes incredible student work twice a year. The creative writing class assembles this collection of poetry, prose, fiction, photography, drawing, images of ceramics, painting, and other student work. This year’s winter literary magazine was just released to the Archer community.
As a little preview, below are two pieces of work that have been submitted to the lit mag. To see the entire digital flip book, follow this link: Pillars of Salt, Winter 2014.
“Webs” by Emily Ward ’15
It’s not yet ten in the evening
when I step over the edge of the courtyard,
and into the circle of paved stones, closed flowers, and shadows.
which is never closed,
branches out across the rickety wooden table,
uneven metal chairs, and the tilted rose bushes.
The houses around me
are silent, quiet,
sitting in the glowing darkness
of a city that always teems with life
I don’t notice it at first,
the brush of the thin strand across my face,
soft and sticky at the same time.
I continue towards my door, only stopping when
I feel it again.
It’s like a stutter this time,
the thread skittering across my forehead and nose before
and rests on my cheek.
My fingers find the cobweb,
the liquid lace of an arachnid,
and brush it away.
It’s that time of year when
all the spiders are out hunting,
squatting between the trees,
patrolling their webs with the finesse and dedication
of White House security guards.
Dozens of webs stretch out across the courtyard,
spinning and shining with brevity
in the glint of a reflected lamp on the main road.
There are layers,
webs that stretch from
window to door handle,
trellis to front step,
chair to flower pot,
and leaf to petal.
There is a psychopath’s mess of intertwining strings
hanging above our courtyard.
Some of the threads are small, short, spindly things
that break on contact;
others are thick, layered,
that snap after a step or two of stretching.
I brush them away as I advance,
my house only a few moments away.
I pull out my key
and fumble for the lock,
my fingers skittish and hurried,
because I found the webs,
but where are the spiders?
Featured Image: Last spring’s issue of the Upper School Lit Mag— Pillars of Salt. Photographer: Harris Hartsfield.
“Ode to Brando” by Athena Schlereth ’14
Oh Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named
Desire. You, Apollo of my heart,
Inspire within me eternal flames.
It surely was your finest acting part.
You split the heavens searching for your Stella
Your sultry shouts had spoken to my soul
I wish that you would have called out “Athena!”
Your whiskey-tinged voice could burn a hole.
Because you had become obese and old,
I cringed to see you in Apocalypse
But age cannot restrict your smile of gold
And time cannot betray your handsomeness
I’ll always have your films to watch, adore
Where you, young Marlon, live forevermore.