If the taste of the eternal "is increasingly absent in our words," then Jeff Hardin\'s sixth collection, A Clearing Space in the Middle of Being , attempts to behold language anew, to listen in on its "preview of eternity." Aware of ambiguities that plague our lives and given to swerves of logic and dislocations, to echoes and reverberations "too numerous to see in some totality," his poems nonetheless speak openly to existence, to the mind\'s "attempts/to console itself," and to the.
If the taste of the eternal "is increasingly absent in our words," then Jeff Hardin\'s sixth collection, A Clearing Space in the Middle of Being , attempts to behold language anew, to listen in on its "preview of eternity." Aware of ambiguities that plague our lives and given to swerves of logic and dislocations, to echoes and reverberations "too numerous to see in some totality," his poems nonetheless speak openly to existence, to the mind\'s "attempts/to console itself," and to the
