This collection had no life, no edge. The poems just lay there on the page, largely one dimensional, no natural surprises or irony. Many of the poems were long, flat descriptions, with a forced surprise in the final lines. We want surprise endings, but they can't be forced. They have to grow out of the setup.
Here is a sample of a flat description (37):
Woodsmoke
Sometimes the sight of it
curling blue
from brick chimney
on a rusty tin roof
or the scent of it
drifting on a cold day
puts an edge on things,
reminds me
we were almost poor
forked creatures
those frosty mornings,
our country home no
fairytale cottage....
And so on.