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From The Meadow: Selected And New Poems (Pitt Poetry Series) Paperback – April 18, 2004
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From the Back Cover
"Peter Everwine's lyrics and translations-for they all seem part of a single voice-haunt me with their clear, crisp, unsentimental, heartbreaking lines. . . . Unassuming, hard and unswerving as fate itself."-Paul Mariani
"There is a profound humility in Everwine's poems, a tenderness for the least detail in the world that his attention and care make luminous. Bone, leaf, panorama, or part of speech, Everwine works to identify in any particular how our lives-at least in the attention of the moment-might claim transcendence."-Christopher Buckley
"What a radiant book-a lifetime of Peter Everwine's quiet, meditative poems, and his shining translations, made (or found) his own. . . . His poems gleam with [a] love of this world."-Jean Valentine
Top Customer Reviews
you and the absence of you.
There is in me, always
that road that leads to a field
of flowers we once knew
Peter Everwine's poems are beautiful recollections of a life lived and the subtle promptings of memories we have yet to experience. I love reading poetry by men who have been keen observers of their own lives and the lives of others. In observing and revealing, Peter shows a side of men that is rare and beautiful and intoxicatingly mature.
In Perhaps It's As You Say, he explores stars, dry grasses gathering a honey light and houses across fields that disappear into cottonwoods by dry creeks. And then, quite profoundly he suddenly says: "Meet me there." Instinctively, we seem to know exactly what he is talking about because the poem not only comforts, but it gives hope.
The Marsh, New Year's Day exposes hidden fears as age steals away the lovers in men's lives and Peter sees himself following in the footsteps of what these men around him are becoming. Yet, I feel he could never become the men dying like rainbows because of his inner light and ability to observe while others walk blind.
Peter Everwine's painting of his solitude in, How to Handle It, made me almost nostalgic.
Speech is one thing;
this solitude, another:
books on the table,
my lamp at night throwing
a small sooty glare
into the wind's teeth
Although I have to say that the poem: "I Dreamt" is perhaps the most meaningful to me in this collection of wisdom mingled with remembrance of experience's learned and moments observed. In this poem he enters a room filled with pens and the entire poem seems to speak of loving the sorrow or at times pain of life that leads to creation/writing.Read more ›