Charles Jensen | Writer

Another grief sequence today, but this one is somewhat different. While mourning the loss of a father, the speaker of these poems turns to the natural world, where memories of animal encounters and dreams of animal encounter abound, as well as subtle explorations of flowers and plants, all leading toward a zen understanding of the universe’s quest for balance.

This is a book of memory, where the mind is always in the act of remembering, about to remember, or craving memory. What is familiar is mistaken for echo rather than suggestion.

There are two poems from this book that follow me. “Wren” includes the sudden memory of dipping a hand into a pool to fish out a small bird stranded there, recognizing as it shudders with fear despite the salvation the hand brings. “Dogwalk Triptych,” near the end of the book, brings to mind every time I’ve seen a dog play on a beach. The images throughout the book are startling and memorable, but what truly sings is the language, which is luscious, erotic, and cropped all at the same time.