Because of the cover, I immediately went into this book thinking about eggs, and oddly enough I think the poems lent themselves well to that cover-vision. Each poem compactly structured, a very separate entity yet part of a whole (though a half-dozen, not a full dozen...dang!). I read each poem as a morsel of moments. Observation seasoned with well-poached truths for example, the end of the first poem "Sophia": "i still get irritated/with the little things/it makes me ashamed/i regret not saying/thank you enough". I'd like to see this half-dozen finish out to a full dozen. More poems, please.