Quasi was kind enough to send me the above titled by Avison. The first stanza displays a clever playfulness:
"glister of birdsong" is something only a poet can do, but she ruins it through her use of the metaphor *arena*Quote:
Golden meadows of morning, evenings
when the last glister of
birdsong vanishes and
only the nighthawk is
still away out up there in the
gathering dark:
and overwrought, one might add.Quote:
such an -- arena! That word is
unnerving.
The last stanza seems confusing to me. I don't know if it is the "triumph" of her bliss in darkness that will, in its onslaught, become "far other", but I would have preferred that she stick with what the first stanza promised, rather than making an abrupt metaphysical transition to her views about the cost of salvation--if salvation is her reference point.
We will see what next week brings quasi; me thinks Avison misses certain notes that might have made her voice more challenging.... but I did tell you I hated most poets en masse, from the first book club revival....:D
I will go back and read JBI's pick, at some point.

