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Hands
In Moya Cannon's new collection, Hands, the commonplace is transfigured by an attentiveness that jolts us into wonder. The poems sing of deep the impulse to ritual and pattern that, across centuries, defines us as human; a web of interdependences that sustain the 'gratuitous beauty' of the planet. Hands travels in time and space, mapping journeys we make as ageing, illness, and the deaths of parents shift our responses to our place in the fabric of the world, where we live in the grace of love and sunlight.
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First published December 1, 2011
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November 15, 2013
Moya Cannon offers fifty some poems that are rich with experience of Ireland. Some of her poems resonate with historical significance. Some capture details of the coast via stones, sea life, some via the countryside. Apples play a role in several of the poems, weaving in and out of the collection and tying it back to a thankful life for riches of the table or warmth. The title poem "Hands" is especially wondering and full of gratitude and most of the poems show the fine work of hands at their best.
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