From the Editor

This is just to say goodbye to the plums -- "Forgive me / they were delicious / so sweet / and so cold." Goodbyes are, indeed, bittersweet and satisfying, warm and distant, apologetic for the missed chances, uncertain about their acceptance. Some goodbyes are easy, yearned for, but then there are those at graduation, after the hard pull on the rope and chain, after the mind-aching frenzy of last things -- papers, requirements, grades, post graduation plans. It is dizzying then to say goodbye, to say "see you later" when you know the "later" most likely will never come again. We make our goodbyes ceremonial to reassure ourselves about the new day coming, peopled in a different city, a different time. For we are guaranteed there will be other goodbyes, other hard pulls, other plums to be tasted in our lives.

Margaret Atwood's poem, "You Begin," promises us that this is so when she writes about how we begin to learn words and move through the world according to our understanding of them. "You begin this way / this is your hand / this is your eye, / that is a fish, blue and flat ... / This is your mouth, this is an O / or a moon, whichever / you like, This is yellow." Atwood writes, "Once you have learned these words / you will learn that there are more." Goodbyes are like that, too, learning and saying the names and then the new names, repeating the good wishes we sincerely imagine. Our ceremonial bows to each other allow us the grace to accept our parting and to welcome the grip of another hand.  "It begins, it has an end," Atwood reassures us, "this is what you will come back to, this is your hand."

Thanks for the hand Luke and Celeste, Brent and Marie, and everyone else who helped me in my first year as editor. Goodbye students, friends, and colleagues. Have a restful summer!