TIME AND PLACE
By Bri Gearhart Staton

It’s -9 degrees, and the car is struggling
to warm us. My daughter
is in the back, long booster seat-free, 
but just this week still needed 
five tries to draw a calendar 
for the month of January. 
Time and place have never been
a strength. I turn the radio on 
as low as I can, listen
to the neighboring governor
talk about the murdered man,
left to lie still in the street. 
My daughter asks how far away 
Minneapolis is, asks 
if Minnesota is in Tennessee 
where Grandpa lives. Time and place 
have never been a strength. 
My daughter asks if we’ll be safe 
if the men in masks come here. 
The radio is an urgent
whisper. Now, I think 
of time and place, 
my tired rage, the rearview 
mirror framing hot breath turning 
to fast clouds, a small heart beating 
in the body of the world.

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Bri Gearhart Staton (she/her) is an award-winning poet living in South Dakota. A graduate of Augustana University’s psychology, theatre, and gender studies programs, Bri’s writing explores womanhood, intersections of identity, and experiences that exist in the periphery, Bri’s poetry has been published by Button Poetry, Quibble Lit, FLARE Magazine, Gather Lit Mag, and more. A mother of two, Bri’s objectively hilarious children are the joys of her heart. Connect with her on Instagram @bristaton.writes

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Artwork Source: “California Highway 1,” by Larry Stark. The National Gallery of Art; Gift of Bob Stana and Tom Judy.