Nonfiction / Poetry
98 pages / 286 KB
5 Stars
I have a bad habit—if I’m truly enjoying a book, I read fast. Poetry should be read slowly, each poem savored. The feel of it in the mouth as you read it aloud, the taste of the spice, the texture of the meat and the vegetables, the subtlety of the dessert—all should be given their own time to be enjoyed. But sometimes when I’m starving, I just want more, more. I did try to slow down in reading this book, but the mouth feel was too good, I wanted more, and I didn’t want to wait.
I have a second bad habit—I love good poetry, and I’m book poor. Fortunately, I own my own copy of The Philosopher’s Daughter, and will go back to enjoy the poems, individually, and give them, each and every one, the reverence they are due.
My third bad habit—I dog ear pages of the books I own. The bottom corners. When a poem speaks to me, grabs me, evokes laughter or tears, is one I know I want to read again and again, I dog-ear the bottom corner. About a third of the poems in this book are dog-eared. There isn’t a poem in this book I didn’t like, but so many reached out and touched me—from “Conducting in Thin Air” to “Night Writing.”
These poems are about family, about life, and even to someone not “into” poetry, I think they will be accessible and enjoyable.