Guests of Gravity

by Marsha Rabe

The line breaks and internal rhymes are very interesting. My sense is of weight shifting, always shifting, through space and through time. The last section is revelatory. I gave out a little gasp as I read it. The three sections of the poem reflect back on each other. It all works (the way a poem should).

I was most struck by the second two poems. I never thought about something as familiar as simply descending before, but reading it, I felt it in my body and imagination. Coffee in cups, skirts hanging down, and dirt above the coffin. Lovely. As a practitioner of tai chi chuan, gravity is something I think about often.

I've lived much of the yoga poem, and when the word "pulse" came up, ahh, yes. Such longing and relief. A perfect choice.

I like your mind, Marsha Rabe. It works somewhat like mine, I think, but speaks itself far more fluently.
I'm not a poet.


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