Once in a blue moon, a love like this comes along This collection of love poems draws us into the sacred liminal space that surrounds death.
The clothes are put away, and from the bed we see the moon folding light into darkness, not deat.
We have had this day, and now this night.
You folding socks one inside the other.
The pile of laundry on the bed.
The loop of time holds us all together.
Welkin, winkle, wrinkle.
Whorled.
Whole.
I dreamed you were telling me your whole life story.
Oh Death Someone sang, Oh death! Oh death! Won\'t you pass me over for another day? Someone said, I dreamed of you last night.
This lucid poetry is a testimony to the radical act of being present and offers this balm: that the generative power of love continues after death.
Even as she asks, What\'s the use of poetry? Not one word comes back to talk me out of pain, the book delivers a vision of love that is boldly political and laced with a tumultuous hope that promises: Revolution is bigger than both of us, revolution is a science that infers the future presence of us.
She also chronicles the quiet rooms of pain and the body\'s memory, bringing the reader carefully into moments that will be familiar to anyone who has suffered similar loss.
Each poem is a pocket lens to swivel out and magnify the beauty in the little glints, insignificant that catch her eye: The first flowers, smaller than this s.
With her beloved gravely ill, poet and activist Minnie Bruce Pratt turns to daily walks and writing to find a way to go on in a world where injustice brings so much loss and death.
Once in a blue moon, a love like this comes along This collection of love poems draws us into the sacred liminal space that surrounds death
