A new collection from the awardwinning poet and author of the bestselling novel Gap Creek
In the words of Poetry magazine, Robert Morgan’s poems “shine with beauty that transcends locale.” The work in his newest collection, rooted in his native Blue Ridge Mountains, explores the mysteries and tensions of family and childhood, the splendors and hidden dramas of the natural world, and the agriculture that supports all culture. Morgan’s voice is vigorous and exact, opening doors for the reader, finding unexpected images and connections. The poems reach beyond surfaces, to the strange forces inside atoms, our genes, our heritage, and outward to the farthest movements of galaxies, the dark energy we cannot explain but recognize in our bones and blood, in our deepest memories and imagination.
Why have I never read Robert Morgan's poetry before? At least now I can look forward to reading the back collection. I checked this book out from the library and the poetry touched me so much that I've bought myself a copy. I don't know how to explain how Morgan's voice speaks of my life and mountain raising, but he's the closest writer I've read to my dearly-loved Bryon Herbert Reece. Just wonderful.
I first read this in one of my creative writing courses in college. I didn’t finish then, so that’s why I’d picked it up after all this time. I don’t remember what I thought about Robert Morgan’s poetry when we read it for class. I vaguely recall being new-ish to poetry and so not understanding a lot. I was probably put off by the regularity of the poems—I didn’t understand the appeal or use of form or rules to guide and shape ideas and language. Our class wrote a letter to Robert Morgan in the same form as these poems and he responded in kind. I have both the query and the reply framed and hanging in my room.
As for this more recent reading, I have found that reading his poems are a meditative or a contemplative exercise, much like gazing at a landscape painting or out the window of a car at the rolling expanse. I enjoyed the experience of reading through them and was quite disappointed to reach the end. I feel I could read a poem of his every day and find a quiet solace in them. As a final note, I appreciated that the subject matter—from a cow’s milk vein to neutrinos—varied so widely from muddy boots type everyday stuff to the vast reaches of the universe and that stretch never felt incongruous.
This is a good, not great, book of poetry. It is in four parts, the first about Robert Morgan's birthplace in the Blue Mountains; the second is memory of his childhood; the third part is, I think, poems about the region around Cornell University, where he lives; and the fourth about physics (neutrinos, dark energy, dark matter, etc.) . The poems are short and accessible. I didn't usually get a sense of song that I do around the best poetry--nor did the poems grab me emotionally.
I found out about Morgan through a poem published in The Atlantic Monthly.
"The sleet is fine as jewels in a watch and clicks on leaves almost as regular as ticks inside a fancy timepiece...
...The seconds count off yet another year advancing toward infinity, which we will never see but still can contemplate, inside the clockwork of creation in steady progress toward oblivion."
Profound and immersive; if I were going on a camping trip I would take this book with me. Robert Morgan has the ability to strip everything down to a simple (yet profound) level of conceptualization that adds to a deeper understanding of existence. Will look for more books of poetry by Robert Morgan when I next go to the bookstore.