Written with lyric freshness and wry wisdom, Gensler's poems are the fruit of her lifetime's journey. In this third book of poems, Gensler locates her personal life in the contest of a history learned first-hand as a child in the 1930s and 1940s, traveling on the margins of World War II, shuttling between the US and Palestine: "What you learned as a child was/ you too are a foreigner,/ speaking the difficult American language./ The need to pick your way, to go slowly./ How far the distance is between countries." The poems move through historic time from Genghis Khan to the most recent elections in Israel, and from periods of personal grief to acceptance: "Sometimes I forget to breathe,/ caught in time's crossfire." In the memoir which is the central section of this book of poems, an orange is "the perfect journey fruit... with its thick, faintly pitted skin and its slightly flattened poles like the earth seen from space." Together the poems and memoirs present a unique vision of what it means to be human, a woman, and a Jew, in the twentieth century.
