| Stories The Way Plants Move In my tree garden Just after dawn I walk wet-ankled into the focus of their circle A planted ring of redwoods grows toward the sky Looking upward I watch their movement Have for years now A slight dance of Drooping branches Weathering dark Growing These trees are stories high They did not start that way They started as mere shoots Now in the evening when the light is bronze I often see two red tailed hawks Lit, alight Swaying the tallest crown As I look up I get the same feeling I felt as a teenager on the steps of the Kölner Dom Gothic Cathedral Six hundred years to complete Spires twisting toward heaven One hundred and sixty meters vectoring Away from the planet Earth I glimpse An understanding For why the subjects of the Holy Roman Empire Believed in the magic of creation Block upon block of medieval stone cut Solid impressive polished Wall Going up Law Does not move But my ring of trees is not made from stone anymore Than my relationship with you is monolithic Rather We move through each other like plants move Slowly Hawks are ideas perched Throughout stories Tall Rings of trees One story atop the other Growing |
| Letter from the Editor: Beer & Broken Hearts |
| Ptotem: Raccoon |
| M-shine |
| Verse |
| ________________ |
| Welcome to the Ptero Heart of Luna Taylor |
February 2010
| Featured Artist: Brewer Jen Kent |
| Featured: The Brew Process Pterodactale |
| Recipe: Beer Bread |