Ultimately, Mitchell’s language is reminiscent of Dylan Thomas’s “Fern Hill” and draws from a similar source: life bursting forth on the farm beside an undercurrent of death. As Thomas’s famed line says, “Time held me green and dying/ Though I sang in my chains like the sea.”
There’s an artfulness of intention behind this work, but placing these anagrammed lines beside those of Shakespeare doesn’t enhance it. Ketner may have discovered an ingenious technique, but unfortunately their method does not result in ingenious poetry.
Coming from deep inside, these poems work by free association, often alluding to falling rain, snow, and even sunlight pouring onto a surface, all of which add a spiritual resonance to these hypnotic and meditative poems.
Coming from Cole’s fascination with word play and paradox, the best of these poems are laced with alliteration and rhyme, shape-shifting as they focus on the letters of the Hebrew alphabet and the creative process. For poetry readers who like pondering deep questions.
Ultimately, Gabbert writes her memoir-like poems around quotidian events such as awakening from sleep, going shopping, and contemplating boredom, loneliness, or life during the pandemic, interspersing snappy comments like “Paper or plastic?” with profundities. All of which leaves readers on edge, which is Gabbert’s intention.
In Koethe’s relaxed, prose-like style, long sentences meander until his thoughts, taking a philosophical turn, dead end in a reverberant image or a metaphor like the enigmatic smile in “Daddy,” one of the best poems in this striking collection.
Slowly drawing readers into the subject with two or three scenes, Ronk doesn’t stop until all eyes and ears are opened to the narrator’s circumstance. Then, in the best of these poems, she makes the scene universal, taking readers by surprise as she launches into the stratosphere--which, as one can imagine, is breathtaking.