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i always feel like i'm not at the right age to fully absorb and enjoy louise glück's work, because there's a tranquil maturity to her command of language that i don't think i'm able to fully appreciate. i go into poetry expecting to enjoy compression of time, movement, and syntax in a way that puzzles me, and with her work, the slowness, the tunneling down, the magnification, the narrative structures....they aren't what i expect to encounter in a well-loved collection. but then when i pause and return to glück when i'm in a fiction/narrative mood, the work really moves me in new and strange ways.

all this to say, i need to expose myself to greater amounts of narrative poetry! and so many moments in this were really breathtakingly beautiful (i can't help but think about how much i'd love a glück short story collection). 3.4/5.

The sun was shining. The dogs / were sleeping at her feet where time was also sleeping, / calm and unmoving as in all photographs.