Caches of rubble are the obstacles so slowly, geologically formed, I took them as landmarks, orienting myself in accord. But they shift under my feet at a tempo I fail to notice.
In "The Lost Grip," poems are stepping stones mapping trauma to recovery, disarming convictions shaped by cultural sins of omission. At times with a painter’s eye or a dancer’s movement, Eva Zimet forms connection and reconnection. "The Lost Grip" offers respite and nurtures light on the way to healing.
This book is quite unique compared to other poetry that I frequently read. Although different, I still appreciate these poems and their meanings. I recommend this book and will read it again.