W.S. Merwin's latest collection of poetry is centered on the complex riddles of light, darkness, presence, and memory. Merwin acknowledges, "I have just what I recall," and his recollections are sharp and vivid—the unique properties of fall light, a talk with a childhood teacher, well-cultivated loves, and "our long evenings and wonder." Merwin depicts a scene in "Photographer" in which "someone who understood" saves armloads of vintage glass negatives from a dumpcart. Merwin conjures up a boy laying in bed at night, listening to the muffled dynamite explosions of coal mining outside his house in "Empty Lot," and we can't help but wonder: How shall we mine our lives?
Part memory part distance remaining mine in the ways that I learn to miss you.
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