From an award-winning poet, a new collection that endeavors to pass along what the things of the earth are telling us
Over the course of his career Robert Wrigley has won acclaim for the emotional toughness, sonic richness, and lucid style of his poems, and for his ability to fuse narrative and lyrical impulses. In his new collection, Wrigley means to use poetry to capture the primal conversation between human beings and the perilously threatened planet on which they love and live, proceeding from a line from Auden: “All we are not stares back at what we are.” In language that is both elegiac and playful, declarative and yet ringingly musical; in traditional sonnets, quatrains, and free verse, Wrigley transcribes the consciousness and significance of every singing thing—in order to sing back.
About the Author
Robert Wrigley is the author of eleven collections of poetry, including, most recently, Box (2017). His earlier books have been awarded the Kingsley Tufts Poetry Award, the Poetry Center Book Award, the Pacific Northwest Booksellers Association Book Award, and the Poets’ Prize, and he is the recipient of fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts. He lives in the woods near Moscow, Idaho, with his wife, the author Kim Barnes.
Advance praise for The True Account of Myself as a Bird:
“Worlds come together in Robert Wrigley’s new collection, The True Account of Myself as a Bird, taking surprising leaps of dare and faith inside every turn, and rituals of becoming traverse borders of mind and flesh, as each word grooves. And it is a felt, lived music that runs a binding seam through human lives so natural and true.” —Yusef Komunyakaa, author of Night Animals
Praise for Robert Wrigley's previous collection, Box:
“Quietly enlightening . . . Box thoughtfully considers how human beings, relationships, and the physical world are constrained by time, mortality, and other invisible forces . . . Wrigley meditates on the fragility and strength of nature; the search for transcendence and connection; the objects people keep and pass on; and how various landscapes can trap or inspire the soul.” —The Washington Post
“These poems are masterful in how they navigate time, molding memory into new understanding.” —St. Louis Post-Dispatch