I’ve been a devotee of poetry for a long time, and over the years I’ve noticed that there are a few books of poetry that I keep coming back to and re-reading.  But why these particular books keep drawing me back is often very unclear.  I’m not sure what I actually get from them.  I get something from them, but what that something is is very subtle.  It’s not like reading a novel and assimilating the story, taking it in, understanding how it works, feeling the drama of it.  With these particular poetry books it’s more like they create a larger space for my mind to wander in.  They haunt me with the subtle sense that perhaps it is possible to live in a larger world.  But just what is that larger world?  I keep going back and re-reading, thinking, wondering…

Some of these books that seem to compel, mysteriously, so many re-readings (at least for me) over the years are:

Almost anything by A. R. Ammons, but especially The Snow Poems, Brink Road, Glare, Garbage, and Sphere.
Raptus and They are Sleeping by Joanna Klink.
Among the Monarchs and The Piercing by Christine Garren.
Tremble and Rising Falling Hovering by C. D. Wright.
Memory at These Speeds by Jane Miller.
All of It Singing by Linda Gregg.
The Spectra by Fred Muratori.
From Snow and Rock From Chaos and For You by Hayden Carruth.
Symmetry by Laura Moriarty.
Flower and Hand and The Rain in the Trees by W. S. Merwin.

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