Adrián Astur Álvarez reviewed Indigo by Ellen Bass
Review of 'Indigo' on 'Goodreads'
5 stars
One of the most affecting poetry books I have read in a while. Also very accessible, for anyone who worries poetry just isn't for them. The craft work in these poems is exceptional and nearly invisible for the reader. I had to re-read some of them several times just to figure out how they worked so powerfully. The first read some of them were just magical. Like, they magically wetted my eyes and made me think of my mortality all day.
Here's one of my favorites:
Taking My Old Dog Out to Pee before Bed
Zeke's hips are too ground down
to lift a leg, so he just stands there. We both
just stand, looking into the darkness.
The moon silvers his thinning fur.
Orion strides across the heavens, his own dog
trotting at his heel. And a great live oak reaches over
from the neighbor's yard, dense black limbs …
One of the most affecting poetry books I have read in a while. Also very accessible, for anyone who worries poetry just isn't for them. The craft work in these poems is exceptional and nearly invisible for the reader. I had to re-read some of them several times just to figure out how they worked so powerfully. The first read some of them were just magical. Like, they magically wetted my eyes and made me think of my mortality all day.
Here's one of my favorites:
Taking My Old Dog Out to Pee before Bed
Zeke's hips are too ground down
to lift a leg, so he just stands there. We both
just stand, looking into the darkness.
The moon silvers his thinning fur.
Orion strides across the heavens, his own dog
trotting at his heel. And a great live oak reaches over
from the neighbor's yard, dense black limbs
silhouetted against a paler sky. Single voluptuous
remnant of forests. Can a tree be lonely?
Zeke tips up his muzzle, scent streaming
through two hundred million olfactory cells
as he reads the illuminated manuscript of night-
raccoons prowling down the street, who's in heat
or just out for a stroll. Handsome still,
he reminds me of an aging movie star with his striking
white eyebrows and square jaw. He always
had an urbane elegance, a gentleman
who could carry off satin lapels and a silver-tipped cane.
Tonight an ambulance wails. Someone not so far away
is frightened, in pain, trying to live or trying to die.
And then it's quiet again. No birds. No wind.
We don't speak. We just wait, alive together,
until one of us turns back to the door
and the other follows.
This poem really moved me. So much that I sought out Ellen Bass' twitter account just to see if she had posted any photos of Zeke. I was not disappointed. Well, a little disappointed. RIP to that handsome little guy.