Poetry. In James Armstrong's pellucid poetry the drifting of autumn
leaves shares space with the baroque architecture of nineteenth
century England. A woman peruses a book of pharmaceuticals in a
coffee shop looking for hints of happiness. And a naked woman
wearing hip boots stares out of the 1940s in a photograph hung in a
Michigan bar. Twilight is always moving the shadows of our urban
lives out toward the country, our inherited past, where a deer or a
heron waits like an angel glimpsed through the fog. Armstrong's
poems elucidate the mystery and beauty of borders--temporal and
historical, as well as geographical--while his pastoral sensibility
floods our senses with images of the natural world, seemingly
stopping time, edifying us, and helping us--for a few moments
anyway--to transcend our enervated contemporary lives. Reading this
book is like diving into a deep lake. It cleanses the soul.
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