This archive includes PostScript versions of the formatted journal, which is publication quality and can be printed on most laser printers.
Poems appear by authors' permission and constitute copyrighted material.
I take no responsibility for the fate of this document, and claim ownership only to any poems I have authored. I raise my hands to the white hush-kiss of the snow. It's light as parachutes, cold as river water. Downhill a rabbit crashes, tumbles through heavy juniper looking for safe haven. Bud cautious yellow-green, rust, The dove wails welcome.