Editor's Note Vol 3: Iss 2

When I think of the contributions in this issue, the thought that comes to mind is reflection. The written pieces tell stories of life moving forward and stories reflecting on life past; stories of pain and suffering and of letting go of too much too soon; the reflection of the life of a beloved parent, an addict, and those contemplating retirement—even a story of the serendipity of the unexpected desire for a shot of tequila.

The visual art pieces highlight the hands of a surgeon, the hands of an athlete, and the "hands" of an eagle; a shoulder series, and an inviting autumn day.

—Max McMillen, ELS

Dear Sir Learning Anatomy

Poetry, Volume 3; Issue 2

Dear Sir

With my chisel I removed the petrous
portion of your temporal bone to discover 
the tiny, majestic malleus attached
to the tympanic membrane—its hanging 
no less or more marvelous than vibration.  
These are the deepest parts.  
I cut the heart from your chest, opened 
the thunderous wall of the left ventricle
to touch the billows of the aortic valve— 
three smooth leaves, a pale blooming parachute.  

So, we have been intimate,
But I do not know you, only imagine 
the work you once did in the world 
as I peel the sinewy skin 
from your palm, its soft pads 
finally giving way. I grasp each 
finger—from smallest to thumb—
as I loose and then take the muscles
of fine motion which you may have used 
to hold those that you loved.