I found this because I was searching for "in the dark" (a new anthology of horror comics) in my library catalog. they didn't have it, but they did have this! And I am not one to ignore a book with such a great title.
This collection holds back when it needs to and holds forth when necessary. Reading it felt like walking around with a good friend in a park for a while, talking a lot sometimes, passionately, and having gaps of comfortable silence to think in, to insert a comment into. It's not very long, and although some poems are titled, some seem to be fragmentary and can feel like they are part of the titled works if you don't pay attention, or if you do pay attention and want to read it that way.
Anhava writes of grief and wonder. The voice of the poems is so much outside of what it is describing, but is feeling it intensely - searching slowly through what it is living. My favorite parts were the small poems at the very end. They had the best lines:
"Such a callous thrill when plant roots tangle and grope the Earth
And is there a sky; and what does it feel like if one is a horse"