Weinberger both celebrates and mourns the solitude of the human condition. And she calls herself over and over to things of the natural world: the northern white rhino, coyote, meadowlark, hickory tree, mushroom, and pine cone. Her ear, she says, is "pressed / to the bark of a tree, so I can hear the murmur of sap, / surging from root to limb to leaf." Her poetry affirms that the non-human and the human are not two, but one. She is a poet of the earth and of the heart.
-Steve McDonald, Credo, House of Mirrors
The poems in Sublunary Musings shimmer and sing. Carrie Weinberger sees the sacred in unexpected things, a painting by Vermeer, white rhinos, an aging father. Each poem is a hymn and a painting. A pomegranate is a glossy globe of mottled rubiness. Nuns appear "in denim habits with Lay's potato chips."A passionflower is "a spirograph of purple threads" and a "lemony wheel of pollen pouches." In Not Now Keats's Autumn she says it's "Easy to love leavings when young," She has a child's sense of wonder and a woman's wisdom. The beauty of her writing creates a world the reader will remember for a long time.
-Penny Perry, Santa Monica Disposal and Salvage, Woman with Newspaper Shoes
Related Subjects
Poetry