In the author's sixth book of poetry, little pleasures are bound up with larger ones. Her slightest subjects – beloved Toronto parks with their population of oaks, firs, squirrels, dogs, kids, even ants, and the minutest sighs of her contemporary urban soundscape – all have their being within an immense composition that calls and hauls us to a largeness, a category-breaking “always unthinkable” beyond.
In the author's sixth book of poetry, little pleasures are bound up with larger ones. Her slightest subjects – beloved Toronto parks with their population of oaks, firs, squirrels, dogs, kids, even ants, and the minutest sighs of her contemporary urban soundscape – all have their being within an immense composition that calls and hauls us to a largeness, a category-breaking “always unthinkable” beyond.