Guests of Gravity

by Marsha Rabe
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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.