CONTENTS

Masthead

Benefactors

Editor's Note

Poetry

Fiction

Nonfiction

Book Review

Contributors' Notes

The Dying Buzzard

John McKernan

Hopped Around the yard for days Skulking in the rose garden Sliding across the porch Hissing under the cedar hedge I almost killed him With a hockey stick One morning at dawn Eating blueberries I brained him that rainy midnight With a chunk of oak firewood Tossed slow & high Like a lucky pitch softball Smacking that yellow cataract eye I watched all the next day His brothers and sisters Chew him For breakfast And lunch And dinner