"These are an exile's poems, marked by loss but offered with a generous spirit. Through them, the landscape transforms-revealing, through Elmusa's vision, its difficult beauty. This is not grounds for despair, then. But ground to work from. That is hope, indeed." --Melanie Carter, poet
The back of the book said this verges the grief of being displaced and the joy of being alive. I think that's fair.
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"I count before I pluck my daisy's petals, / for I prefer the illusion of "she loves me" / over the despair of "not"." (No Flowers for Flowers' Sake, 41)
"I want my eccentricity to drift / without leaving a footprint on the paved streets." (My Stella Beer T-shirt Tries to Come out of the Closet, 53)
Immediately copied But I Heard The Drops into my commonplace book:
My father had a reservoir of tears. They trickled down unseen. But I heard the drops drip from his voice like drops from a loosened tap. For thirty years I heard them.