Table of Contents
Editor's Notes
Submission Guidelines

Stories & Essays
By Alison Baumy
Contemporary Cultural Differences...
_ By Ninni Siurua
Eclipsed Yesterdays
_ By Clyde Windjammer
Healthy Guy
_ By David J. LeMaster
Immortalis Letum
_ By Sophie Davis
Last Call For Salvation
_ By Angela P. Markham
My Fault
_ By Ro Thorton
Pacific Northwest
_ By Aaron Hellem
Q-Q Ca Choo
_ By Billy Pilgrim
The Best Laid Plans
_ By John A. Ward
The Ecstasy of Cooking
_ By Sam Nolting
The Girl With the Green Umbrella
_ By J.R. Earlebeck
The Gods of Houston
_ By Rebekah Frumkin

Athena's Owl
_ By Amberly Mason
But I Have Never Known This
_ By Kaleen Love
Clouds On Your Floor
_ By Savannah Bobo
Crowded Lobby
_ By M. Blair Spiva
Ever After
_ By Bennie Johnson
Important Questions
_ By P.T. Bell
_ By Sarah Wassberg
Moon Goddess
_ By Kristina Diane Smith
Oldest Profession
_ By Ashley Polker
On Visiting Hay-on-Wye
_ By M. Blair Spiva
Sodom and Gomorrah
_ By Jessica Fannin
_ By P.T. Bell

Art & Photography
Jeremy Harker
_ Paintings
Douglas C. Knight
_ Photography
Jed Knox
_ Paintings and Drawings
May Ann Licudine
_ Paintings
Danny Malboeuf
_ Paintings
Alex Stanbury
_ Photography

By Sarah Wassberg

It is autumn
and the orange and red and gold rain
falls gently on the black earth.
Fragile ice creeps out from the edges of the pond
even as a mist rises from the mirror surface.
The fallen leaves turn mired black beneath my step
and the trees shiver in a wind tipped with frost.

I sit
and my favorite rock is stone cold beneath me.
A breath of winter tousles my hair
and shivers run down my spine.
But I am not alone, for in the distance
I can hear the faint cry of a bird
growing ever-closer, a chorus of sorrow.

I look up
and see the faint vee of snow geese
outlined soft and grey against the sparkling hard sky.
I watch as they rearrange their careful positions,
letting the leader fall back, another taking his place
to bear the brunt of the harsh winds that strive against them.
Such equality and self-sacrifice amazes me.

I wish
and somehow, I feel my very soul
has grown wings and strains against the earth.
I long to join their noble struggle of life and death,
encircling the very earth to continue the hoop of life.
Alas, here I sit under a drowsing tree, among sleepy
rodents, doomed to wait out the winter alone.



SARAH WASSBERG was born and raised in Fargo, North Dakota and steeped in the cultural traditions of Scandinavia. A bookworm, academic, and nature lover, Sarah is currently attending Concordia College in Moorhead, Minnesota and double majoring in History and Scandinavian Studies. She's been writing forever, but her foray into the poetry world is her most recent endeavor. She loves her violin, books, music, dance, and going to family reunions.