A fire requires its own conflagration.
As birth does. As love does.
Saying to time to the end, "Dear one, enter." ( )

Hirshfield has managed to write poetry that sometimes seems incomplete, and sometimes hits you right where it hurts, and I wonder if that is the intent of the whole package. Benefits from multiple read-throughs (like most poetry) and access to the internet sometimes. (I'd give it like 3.5 stars if I had the technological capability). ( )

This is the kind of poetry collection that presents a real problem for me. I can see that these poems are well-crafted, sensitive, perceptive, and thoughtful. I can tell that the author has a good ear for the language and I suspect that she is a deeply kind and spiritual person who is acutely alive to the world around her. I can also predict that I will have completely forgotten about this book approximately seventeen minutes after I finish typing this review. Sigh. ( )

Certainly one of Jane Hirshfield's finest collections---how she shows the everyday to be both evanescent and numinous. How she makes the tragic and comic in our lives from simple words and images. ( )

bought used copy in fine condition from Powell's; nice glossy cover and no marks ( )