The recent sudden and tragic passing of C. D. Wright inspired me to a great deal of reflection on the significance of her work and her impact on my writing life and my life in general. She was certainly one of a kind. I first discovered C. D. Wright several years ago when I lived in Ithaca. While browsing in the old Borealis bookstore (a great store, now sadly defunct) I came across a copy of Tremble by C. D. Wright. At the time I wasn’t at all familiar with the author but something about the book looked intriguing and I bought it. This turned out to be one of my most fortunate book finds ever, because that book changed the whole way I thought about poetry, and in time, about my life. As, over the years, my poetry-writing gradually and quietly expanded from an occasional hobby to an ongoing process of inquiry into life, consciousness, and identity. Every poem in Wright’s book was like a revelation to me. I’m sure that these poems helped catalyze the arrival of this larger kind of awareness for me, this awareness that every moment of one’s life can be, and should be, a keen inquiry into what is.

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