|Measured Extravagance, by Peg Duthie.
||[Mar. 21st, 2012|11:57 am]
Review copy provided by Upper Rubber Boot Books. Peg is also a personal friend, but I'm not clear whether she wishes to identify herself by her nom de blog here, so I will leave it to her to comment with it or not as she sees fit.
I am picky about poetry, but I don't think it's nepotism or even sheer good luck that I end up liking the poetry some of my favorite people like Jaime and Mary and Peg write, so much as common interests combined with parallax on the world. We will have talked over, say, modern physics, or complicated grief--and then I will read one of their poems and get another angle on the same conversation. Another way of looking as well as the poet's turn of phrase. And that's such a good thing. The modern physics and the complicated grief were not randomly selected--both are here--along with fairly tales and travel and meals with friends.
I think my favorite, my best delight, in this volume, was "Deep and Crisp and Even," which title will make those who know me go, well, of course--and it's got apples and snow and winter, but it's Peg's Nashville winter and not my own, parallax again, different views, different angles. I love this. I reread it already. I will reread it again.
And sometimes things find you where you are and you don't entirely wish to say why, and "Hymn" is like that, and if it finds you where you are, too, you will know. Recommended.