Seeing Through Glass, Plastic and Ice

BY Matthew Hollett

When I signed up for my first photography class in art school, my dad rummaged around in the basement and placed a heavy leather case in my hands. I unbuckled it to find his old 35mm camera, a Zenit EM. It had an enormous dent above the lens, as if it had deflected a bullet, and its selenium light meter, mysteriously, did not require batteries.

Three Poems

BY Cheryl White

Sure, it takes all kinds.
Beautiful day, isn’t it?
At least you don’t have to shovel rain.
You want another Black Horse?