Rooted in the grit of urban Baltimore and the forests of rural Massachusetts, these poems remind us that life’s tensions and polarities are energies we carry within ourselves.
These are poems of witness and commentary, conversation and meditation. They offer moments of close looking, and of looking away; of loving, and of bungled attempts to be more loving. They call us to look long and hard — and generously — at our lives. Written with radiant honesty and fierce tenderness, they suggest a path of inner discovery where mystery awaits us in the ordinary.
“A marvelous work that stands with Cairns and Oliver, Wimans and Glück, reclaiming the sacred in the steady rumor of its eclipse.”
—David Rigsbee, author of Not Alone in My Dancing: Essays and Reviews
“Wallace’s eye and heart roam freely among the mysteries”
— Lia Purpura, author of It Shouldn’t Have Been Beautiful
“These poems, one after the next, labor towards our own softness–laboring which is not only elegant, but clumsy and craving and scared and utterly human.”
—Ross Gay, author of Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude
“Deceptively quotidian poems that capture the experience of being alive”.
— Chard deNiord, Vermont Poet Laureate
“Her poems wade into the shadows of life, without being proud of their own gloom. They are unafraid to be wise; to not only describe reality but make wise assertions about what life does to us. Compelling.”
—Br. Joe Hoover, SJ, poetry editor at America Magazine