"'Father Pablo, lord of the elemental, /your Odes my atlas, ' Healy writes as invocation and homage to Neruda as she begins her book of praise. And what praise it is, inclusive and democratic, solemn and humorous, touching upon time, weather, mythology, fauna, peaches, garlic, and even butterscotch pudding, as she reminds us how 'the whole universe exists so it can be sung to. Even sorrow. Even guilt.' Insistently affirmative and endlessly inventive,...
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Poetry