If I typed all the poems and passages that resonated with me in this collection, I could find myself transcribing the entire book. Here is one excerpt: . . . I can heareach bird's separate song, the chirt and scree,the sip, sip, sip, the dwindle and the uplift yearning,the soup's on, soup's on, let up, let it goof each individual voice, and I know I am here,in this widening light, as we all are, with them,even the most damaged among us or lonelyor nearly dead, and that for each of us there issome small sound like an unseen bird ora red bike grinding along the gravel paththat could wake us, and take us home. Morning Song
