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Douglas J. Gillert 1949 (Saginaw, MI)June 22
I think I will have to set it aside,
This book of new poems by a writer
I read a favorable review of and then
The single short ode to her own life
Revealing her wisdom and her sadness.
Her words and phrasing and meter
Are also the ones I would have chosen. Yes,
She writes as I do or try, weaving her self
Into the forest of visions her searching eyes
Expose with magic flare and then modestly tuck away.
But I can only read the first one,
Wrestling and stumbling through the next page,
Seeing her words, so perfectly strung, tousled
By my reckless attraction to rhyme and its reason,
As her vision enfolds me in her grasp.
Not in the way you think, though, for while she
Ensnared me with our likemindedness, she was kind
And invited me to explore her plentiful garden.
Able to wander freely within, I wander still.
I guess I’m not free—not until I turn the page.
But then where will she take me and will I
Still see what was beautiful before her words
Bade me gaze through a new prism, the one
She colors in ways like I but more perfectly than
How I had seen them before I knew her?
Time enough has passed and I find myself
Looking ahead to what awaits me the other side.
I think though that I will savor a while
Her simple quest for self-survival and how
Each page turned breathes fresh hope.
About this poem
I read the first poem in a collection by a poet I had not known. I found my own thoughts and words expressed as she expressed.
Written on June 01, 2022
Submitted by DJGillert on June 13, 2022
Modified on March 25, 2023
- 1:20 min read
- 43 Views
|Scheme||ABXXX BXCXX DEADX XXDXE XXDXB CAXXX|
|Closest metre||Iambic pentameter|
|Stanza Lengths||5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5|
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Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
"Book Review" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 4 Jun 2023. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/131370/book-review>.
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