an 8x10 print of the back cover poem from issue 10, written by Megan Crawford

the crunch of snow underfoot is such a distinct sound—
especially on the bluejay days
when the air hits your lungs like spearmint.

those so seemingly cold and grey days
that feel like you’re hiding
under the cover of ten blankets.

or better yet—
the days when the snow comes down
like feathers from ten-thousand pillows.

or the snowflakes that land on your sleeve
and look so small and perfect—
they hold a world of their own (and so do you)

©Megan Crawford 2021

• 8”x10”
• enhanced matte paper
• paper weight: 189gsm
• giclée printing quality

ships direct from the printer in a kraft stayflat envelope