EDITOR'S WORD Long ago in Wales, there was an edict that all bards should be put to death. . . for as long as their songs rang out in challenge, King Henry of England found himself powerless against the Welsh. We are glad to hear in this day of spineless living on the part of manythe voices of... Show moreEDITOR'S WORD Long ago in Wales, there was an edict that all bards should be put to death. . . for as long as their songs rang out in challenge, King Henry of England found himself powerless against the Welsh. We are glad to hear in this day of spineless living on the part of manythe voices of the bards still challenging us to be ourselves against all opposition. The bards still sing! The dawn of each new day is a throbbing prelude to the deep, mag— nificent song of Life; as a new day dawns in the growing future of Augsburg College, we of the Writers' Club, imbued with a valiant spirit and deeply in earnest, hope that you, the reader, will consider our craftsmanship as a worthy adversary to spineless living. We also hope that as you walk through the forest of life, we may be allowed to blaze the trail. ErmonL. Dean Show less
WORDS TO A SIIENT MOB TOTHEWIND... INDIANSUMER. WANDEELUST . LAW . ISLAND LANDING APOLOGI.... OHDREARYDAI. MORNING. . .. . . . TOAMEDIEVALSQUIEE Pom—11mm. ZEITQ‘IIST. . . .. PINESI... PINESII .. 011315135.- ONEMORNING. LEEDNIGET .. DCMNHG’IE.... PIE-ATOTEENIG'IT Waco... SUNSEI‘ ... DEATHWATCH.... Show moreWORDS TO A SIIENT MOB TOTHEWIND... INDIANSUMER. WANDEELUST . LAW . ISLAND LANDING APOLOGI.... OHDREARYDAI. MORNING. . .. . . . TOAMEDIEVALSQUIEE Pom—11mm. ZEITQ‘IIST. . . .. PINESI... PINESII .. 011315135.- ONEMORNING. LEEDNIGET .. DCMNHG’IE.... PIE-ATOTEENIG'IT Waco... SUNSEI‘ ... DEATHWATCH. ANAHEIM WHEN .... GREENANDGOLD TRIM... TDJIPUSFUGIT O 0 OF CONTENTS 5mm 0 O O O O O O I I O O O C O I O O O O I Cover design by Linda Hanwick 3 o \OWQO‘UIJ-‘Jv‘ 5t: . 15 . 16 .. 17 . 17 .19 .32 Show less
WORDS TO A SEEM MOB Why the awesome stillness, Rabble? Your brassy throats like Pagan bells have clashed and dinned— But now lie cold and dumb. Your frenzied howls that rang through all Jerusalem: "Crucify Him! Cruciiw Himl". . 0 Where are theft Foolish people! Did you not know that in killing... Show moreWORDS TO A SEEM MOB Why the awesome stillness, Rabble? Your brassy throats like Pagan bells have clashed and dinned— But now lie cold and dumb. Your frenzied howls that rang through all Jerusalem: "Crucify Him! Cruciiw Himl". . 0 Where are theft Foolish people! Did you not know that in killing you brought death upon yourselves? Oh, mob, who gaping and jeering, mocked a dying Han. . 0 You, mob, who flaunted your living, breathing selves before a cross of death. . . Why are you now turned to dust? Julie Medbery T0 'IHE WIND Are you the same wind that blew When I was Just a boy? Your voice is like the voice I knew And yet the thrill—the joy Has changed to a sadder tone— Perhaps an echo of my own. Ennon L. Deen Show less
museum As a child, I roamed the rolling banks of the mighty Mississippi, the shores of Lakes Calhoun and kaomis. I ramped through the wooded hills of Highland Park and Minneheha Park. Marv Saturday afternoons when the Gophers took their stand on the sprawling green of Memorial Stadium, I was... Show moremuseum As a child, I roamed the rolling banks of the mighty Mississippi, the shores of Lakes Calhoun and kaomis. I ramped through the wooded hills of Highland Park and Minneheha Park. Marv Saturday afternoons when the Gophers took their stand on the sprawling green of Memorial Stadium, I was caught up in the crowd's roar. Those Saturdays of so long ago when all the world was my front yard and nature was my toy, I now yearn for. But their splendor is spent and in their place a fresh- er, more iridescent beauty takes my mind and soul skipping across the river bank, along the lake shore and over the long afternoons of ex- citement. New I find Indian summer as full of beauty as then, when I was a child. Her beauty has not changed. Long ago man made this beauty his delight, and in his writing captured the inner meanings of the splash- ing colors—the flaming reds, the glowing browns, and the bright yel- lows. They all pass me as I drive along the river bank where I once roamed. The steady hum of the motor beneath its steel hood, and the rhythmic chatter of the wheels on the asphalt fill the air with the soft music of a time gone by. The sleping river bank with the maples, elms and oaks beckons to me as I ease off on the accelerator and swing the car into an S-shaped curve. Ahead, the ribbon of asphalt curves gently one way, then ano- ther, with bright red sumac as its fence. As the sun swings lazily through its arch, it casts deep purple shadows across the road; red and yellow leaves drift lazily downward from their homes of blazing beauty. Slowing, I swing the car into a roadside stop. 5 Show less
The silence and irresistible peace nestled in the flaming red tree tops drift slowly downward on to the sloping hill of soft emerald green and ripple the blue water of the river. Stretching out on the emerald green, I stare heavenward at the deep blue of an Indian summer's day and frame this... Show moreThe silence and irresistible peace nestled in the flaming red tree tops drift slowly downward on to the sloping hill of soft emerald green and ripple the blue water of the river. Stretching out on the emerald green, I stare heavenward at the deep blue of an Indian summer's day and frame this manent of peace and solitude in the yellow gold and pae- sionate red of the maples Surrounding this patch of personal tranquil- 1W. jon michael WANDEIEUST Long before my father's father Tuned the cabin's snake-black rafter, Left the challenge of his birth cry standing tall, Sane dark giver, primed with laughter, Breathed upon me, and thereafter Iwasbornhiakithandldn; Iknowhis call. Cane, cajoling, at my window Whistle in the wind-bent willow, I must answer, rise and go, though I would stay. Wander-god of hill and billow, You will cane to shake my pillow, And however deep my roots, I must obey. 6 EmonI..Deen Show less
LA PENDULE Its rhythm beats Each passing second of man. It sits unmoved While time pulses over Its expressionless face. Its white mask stares Indifferently Into eyes or worried man. Stand here with me Ami watch its hands: Its dead fingers Reach into the future circle And push each minute aside... Show moreLA PENDULE Its rhythm beats Each passing second of man. It sits unmoved While time pulses over Its expressionless face. Its white mask stares Indifferently Into eyes or worried man. Stand here with me Ami watch its hands: Its dead fingers Reach into the future circle And push each minute aside Into the graying past. We shall stand here Until death Waiting for the next beat. Linda Hamid: Show less
a! DEAR! DA! on, dreary day! Is there no happiness at all? The very slq is crying. Its countenance is glow and grey; Rein falls like teardrops has a baby. The trees are barren new, They stretch their leafless ems To the m in vain; Formulaeeistobehsd. Gold 11: is and dreary, yet the day is But a... Show morea! DEAR! DA! on, dreary day! Is there no happiness at all? The very slq is crying. Its countenance is glow and grey; Rein falls like teardrops has a baby. The trees are barren new, They stretch their leafless ems To the m in vain; Formulaeeistobehsd. Gold 11: is and dreary, yet the day is But a reflection of the heart— Perhsps 1t mourns in sympatlv. Can it know the hopeless, dreary feeling or love slowly We? Can it sense the glean surromding the heart, Whose love is silently stealing beyond reach? Yet, uhst can be done? Does new man know And so it mains, Glam emi dreary evemere. Lens Mpsa: Show less
M I, ‘- I, I . ‘ mm L ('1 if" .—... I .A' ‘n‘V>W I‘ . k ‘ I ' . F “ .‘x‘l' ‘ ‘ ‘ I ‘ . ~h.r' “’M” l “ ‘v , ‘ a “ ‘ ‘ . « , ..f~‘~. ‘«I%.57".l"‘ i , . ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘.\ ..-_~.\3m3 .. \; I)! . “ffr'f’fl‘i‘fi :{f‘fi‘fi'mfl‘wz ’ “fl H _. 0‘ ix MW _ ' ,‘.~ . . 33““‘ir‘TfiIIH MORN ING Linda Hm'ick ll
To A MEDIEVAL sauna: So pale thy features, gentle one! Beneath sooth-flowing, halo'd curls, Thine ivory skin transluth glows. Thine eyes so clear in innocence Gaze far beyond yon parapet— Hhat visions sweet do they behold? A gentle mid, a lntists' song“), 01- angels' antha'd throng? Chem-e13,... Show moreTo A MEDIEVAL sauna: So pale thy features, gentle one! Beneath sooth-flowing, halo'd curls, Thine ivory skin transluth glows. Thine eyes so clear in innocence Gaze far beyond yon parapet— Hhat visions sweet do they behold? A gentle mid, a lntists' song“), 01- angels' antha'd throng? Chem-e13, theudostnot seevar, 0r hear proud chargers snort, Or see wild banners waving high, 0:- hear the death-screens chill] Ho, peaceful is tho look—so call:— 1'hy blue-wined fingers gent]: stroke His annou- and his shield, And traee the cold engraved steel, While silently thee waits his grace. Ghlad,thaustandstsofair, sostraight In gentle dignity— Oh, would that with thy ethereal nein, To grwe an arched niche thee'd stand In sane aathedral's gray-lit “all: Forever free hm human me, To dre- avay eternity. Julie Hedbery 12 Show less
FORTE-THREE MINUTES Outside the air is warm and sweet. 1 Novanber afternoon much as the type you read about in books. The sun hangs hasily over the ath- letic field, and its rays bathe the coral and white Chevy so that the car looks better than it really is. The green grass beneath our feet... Show moreFORTE-THREE MINUTES Outside the air is warm and sweet. 1 Novanber afternoon much as the type you read about in books. The sun hangs hasily over the ath- letic field, and its rays bathe the coral and white Chevy so that the car looks better than it really is. The green grass beneath our feet yields softlytothe pressure ofoursteps ssuehm'rytowardthe car. No doubt ve will get back to Minneapolis early today and beat the rush of traffic on the Mendota bridge for a change. The hazy, snake-filled air stings my nostrils as we walk across the street, but it is a sting which I love. The crisp, mellow odor of burning leaves mixed with the sharp crackle of leaves beneath our feet «shalt my spirit. It is onlyfour blocksbacktoour spartansmtand hardly tine enoughforthe carto warm up. Racing upstairs, Itoss my dirty clothes into the tattered red suitcase. Telling at Dave to hurry, I vaultbaek domstairsandthrowthe suitcase into the trunkofthecar. Daveistaldngfomecr. Doem'theknovlsninahm'ry? AsDavegets intothecsr, Igunthenotor, peelrubberavayfranthe curbandhead out on Route 56. Themsicfrantheradiofills thecarasvesettle backforthe sixty-mile journey hale. Our thoughts relax fro: the tensions of the d” as we float softly alcng the endless ribbon of asphalt. Uneven]: spaced stanksof hayspotthe countryside, givingthe brain berrenearthesanseofsymetry andbeatrty. Thesunhidesbe— hindethincloud cover mdplays metically uiththe earthbelou. Quick patterns of light dance across the asphalt, enticing one to case and Join in the frolicking. 13 Show less
It is great to be alive today, especially with only one week of Student Teaching ranaining. It has been fun, but this coming week should prove to be even more fun. There is the Junior Class Play, the Parents Night, and, of course, our write-ups in the school paper. Glancing over at Inve, I notice... Show moreIt is great to be alive today, especially with only one week of Student Teaching ranaining. It has been fun, but this coming week should prove to be even more fun. There is the Junior Class Play, the Parents Night, and, of course, our write-ups in the school paper. Glancing over at Inve, I notice he is settled back for a quick nap— evidentlv his day must have gone according to plan. Well, it is about time. here on the left. . . . A red sign on the right. A highway. . . . An intersection. . . a truck. . . . The brakes squeal like pigs being led to slaughter. For a moment, nothing. Then like a bomb exploding, the earth flashes apart as my cot» sciousness explodes. Endless hlaclmess fills me. . . . A faint cry reaches my senses as a cool rush of wind bathes my face. Staring at the ignition, my eyes are captured by the rhythmic motion of the key chain. Cries of agorw fill the air, as a voice speaks to me fi'an deep within. Life begins to return like the spring, first Just a movement followed by sounds and ending in the ultimate—awareness. ’me hazy slw hangs over me as the cold wind wisps across my twisted form. Steadily the fluid of life flows from me. There is a voice call- ing to me from somewhere outside 11w imediate awareness. Shadow-like forms dart across my field of vision. Twisted, broken metal wraps around me like a blanket. "Oh, stop the moans. . . ." The cries of death echo throughout the car. Stronger and stronger these cries become until 11v senses can stand them no longer. 'God, turn than off. I can stand than no longer. He's had, I know it. . . but please. . . ." 14 Show less
The faint veil of a siren, chattering voices, the rushing find, the moontrol‘led cries of agony, and a cold, lost feeling begins to settle upon me. The flow of life fluid ceases, and numbness fills me. "Where is everyone?- My glasses are gone, but I see the twisted mess of the car. I see the broken... Show moreThe faint veil of a siren, chattering voices, the rushing find, the moontrol‘led cries of agony, and a cold, lost feeling begins to settle upon me. The flow of life fluid ceases, and numbness fills me. "Where is everyone?- My glasses are gone, but I see the twisted mess of the car. I see the broken glass. . . the spilled blood. The blankets sreusrm, and theykeepthe coldvindfran chillingme, forIamso eolcl.‘I The warm interior of the unbalance settles over me. How far away the sirensounds. Hovfersueynsve seems andyet theybotherehecre with me. Dave can't hearme. . . e The blun‘ed form ofeman falls intonw sight. He is quiet, and his hand on my forehead feels so good. I on safe now, safe from the nightmare. Thecsriegone, Daveisdead...Ioenhearhim,buthedoesn't hesrme. IoeJltohim,hrthedoesnotansm... Icrysndno one hears. jmmichael ZEI‘I‘GEIST As nigat draws to a close I feel my soul take wing, Take wing, and leave me Standing barefoot on the Slippery rocks. "m1, GOd,‘ I cry, W foot is slipping And I cannot stand.' . . . but I forgot to take a number. EmonL. Dean 15 Show less
PmssI Iaingthopine theyeatpinethatatanda inthenorth. Your tall bare W hidden by shaggy aun-gatherera standing humus, auditing the bitter cold and heavy man of long winter, your Joint mm nth m. Youatandnouuithquiet Joy inthelongmndaw ofahortaumar, Singing! . . 0, look at the trees ofGod.... Show morePmssI Iaingthopine theyeatpinethatatanda inthenorth. Your tall bare W hidden by shaggy aun-gatherera standing humus, auditing the bitter cold and heavy man of long winter, your Joint mm nth m. Youatandnouuithquiet Joy inthelongmndaw ofahortaumar, Singing! . . 0, look at the trees ofGod. RogerFiaher 16 Show less
PINES II 0, sing great pipes—- shout the glory of your Maker. the great cloudy 8rd: of earth's cathedral rings with Thy green music. 0, sing mistaken: clear the great and mighty chorale to God. Let the whole world resound thy mending song to God! Roger Fisher CITY 3133 (beat walls of glass, of... Show morePINES II 0, sing great pipes—- shout the glory of your Maker. the great cloudy 8rd: of earth's cathedral rings with Thy green music. 0, sing mistaken: clear the great and mighty chorale to God. Let the whole world resound thy mending song to God! Roger Fisher CITY 3133 (beat walls of glass, of pristine hrick Stand shimmering; they glare Upon 8.11 passereby, and stare With frightening eyes. I cry aloud in fear of them— Greet blazing hulke of white— Pocrever in my tarured eight hey mock me, and I die. Julie Hedbery 17 Show less
CREW The hand—packed dirt floor was damp and cold. The feel of it be- neath his bare feet brought him fully wake, and he hurried over to the cherry-red wamth of the pot-bellied stove in the very center of the poorly furnished room. The boy dressed quickly, buttoning his tattered shirt with one... Show moreCREW The hand—packed dirt floor was damp and cold. The feel of it be- neath his bare feet brought him fully wake, and he hurried over to the cherry-red wamth of the pot-bellied stove in the very center of the poorly furnished room. The boy dressed quickly, buttoning his tattered shirt with one hand as he pulled up the multi—patched overalls with his other hand. As he dashed across the yard to the old log hut which served as a kitchen, he hardly noticed the thick fog swirling about his knees. 'lhe snell of the corn cakes frying on the stove made the boy real- ize Just how hungry he was. Pouring himself a large mug of strong, black chicory coffee, he sat down at the table and waited impatiently for the corn cakes. At last they were rean The pungent odor of blackstrap molasses filled the small but as the boy opened the jar and began to inundate the corn cakes, stopping the deluge only after the cakes began to float over one edge of the plate. He ate greedily, pushing a hunk of molassas-soaked corn cake into his mouth and in the same motion, taking a gulp of the staunch coffee. Breakfast over, he went outside to do his chores. First, he fed the chickens, laughing gaily as the birds danced about his feet, swelling and folding, rippling like ocean waves eddying around a protruding rock. The one lone bantam rooster fluttered about, acting like a single small wave trying to be a typhoon. Next, came the woodpile. 'Ihe flashing blade swung tip—down, until the boy had the yard covered with chips and a fairly large stack of stove-length wood piled next to the door of the log hut. men, carrying two large buck- ets, he made his way to the spring in the hollow, just beyond the 18 Show less
chicken coops. Kneeling dam, he brushed aside a few leaves floating on the surface of the water and dipped in his buckets, mtching than fill slowly and start to sink in the clear, pure water. Pulling out the buckets, he stood up and moved slowly toward the house, the two buckets bumping against... Show morechicken coops. Kneeling dam, he brushed aside a few leaves floating on the surface of the water and dipped in his buckets, mtching than fill slowly and start to sink in the clear, pure water. Pulling out the buckets, he stood up and moved slowly toward the house, the two buckets bumping against his legs, their bottans almost dragging on the ground. He set doun the buckets and glanced at the clock on the table. Eight o'clock: Time for school! The boy grabbed his books and darted through the door. E.L.D. MIDNIGIT The moonlignt glitters on the lake, All nature rests in peace; The birds high in the treetops sleep, The reeds sway in the breeze. The clouds up high like sailboats drift, Es stars beam from the sky; The night is mild and tender, 1111s is no time to cry. w heart, be still, 0 sorrow part, Forget the time of woe; It is the world's way to live and laugh, the love and part and go. Norbert w. Makes 19 Show less
noun Hm! Aunt Ennis stood in the center of the hdg, wsm kitchen, her arms deep inside a number three unshtu'b. She was making baking-powder hie- cuits for supper. Aunt Danie made the best biscuits in four parishes, sveniftherevasenalnost steadystretnn orbs-own drippingrranher chin into the dough... Show morenoun Hm! Aunt Ennis stood in the center of the hdg, wsm kitchen, her arms deep inside a number three unshtu'b. She was making baking-powder hie- cuits for supper. Aunt Danie made the best biscuits in four parishes, sveniftherevasenalnost steadystretnn orbs-own drippingrranher chin into the dough she vas mixing. Aunt Ennis chewed tobacco. “Sadie Has,“ she called, 'Sadie Mae, ifen you don't cane and help your 01' new with this her supper, Ah'xn gonna tek-a strop to you.‘ "Consarn that gal,“ Aunt Ennis thought, 'She's gonna be the death 0' me yet.'' Then her wrinkled old mouth twisted into a mile and her tired eyes brightened. She had thirteen children and she load than all. Sadie Mae was her favorite; she was the oldest. Auntnlnnielirtedaflour-coveredhamdtopushbacksonelonggray hairethathaduorkedthanselvesfreefranthe largeblmonthebaokot her head, and moved toward the doorway. She had been married to Uncle George for twenty-five years. They had been hard years. But she wasn't sorry; she would go throng: them again for George. During these years she had grown old, developed a cranky, sarcastic manner of speak- ing, and had no tine for the frivolous things in life; life had been toohard onher. Auntnnnie steppedthrmnghthedooruay and looked about the yard. “Sadie Hes, dad-gun hit, young'un, get in her!‘ Aunt Ennis screened to the world at large. 'Canin', Mau,‘ a voice Mars in the distance answered. !.L.D. Z) Show less
PLEA TO THE HIE! The nigrt is empty and black. It cries and its drops mm down my window And gather on my sill. They mirror the dull light hintly casting shadows In the blank room. The room is still and agonizing. loneliness echoes soleful cries And I sit numbly vatehing The silent water Falling. ... Show morePLEA TO THE HIE! The nigrt is empty and black. It cries and its drops mm down my window And gather on my sill. They mirror the dull light hintly casting shadows In the blank room. The room is still and agonizing. loneliness echoes soleful cries And I sit numbly vatehing The silent water Falling. . . falling. o . falling. on, soft enfolding X11311: Tear Iran ms nu Foolish thoudats. Irene}: me with thy Wine of sleep. Close my searching windows And give me peace. Show less
