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What I love is how the poems can gesture at a fullness of grief, of loss, and of beauty, without saying much. The saddle, especially, gives us that sensation of working through our own unspeakable sadnesses by naming the parts of a public and collective tragedy.
I found myself shaking my head as my heart tugged, eyes watering, looking at the saddle. The touchstones of those we love, of those no longer standing.