Review
I am leaving Philadelphia behind:
an apartment closed, silent,
empty, some furniture
given to Goodwill: the last
chairs from the last apartment
of the last of my three aunts.
I am the owner now
Of paintings I know by heart,
china from family dinners in old photographs.
Scarves that fill my drawers
once dressed my dolls.
And in the poem "Order" Steinbaum compares the painstaking order of her current life--to the wild and joyous disorder of a life with a husband and kids in close proximity:
I always know where
the tape measure is now,
a pen, a safety pin, my keys.
Not like the years when
shoes tumbled uncoupled
on the floor and every closet
could spill secrets.
Now each day is folded,
neatly stacked in silent drawers
and nothing moves an inch
to left or right.
the tape measure.
Ellen Steinbaum writes a popular column about writers and the writing life in The Boston Globe. In this book she is the subject, and her life yields rich rewards. --Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene, November 19, 2008
