Being Alive Is A Common Road. It's

Poetry Calls Us To Pause. There Is So Much We Overlook, While The Abundance Around Us Continues To Shimmer, On Its Own.

The Hands Are Churches That Worship The World.

It Was Terrible When A Single Conversation With Someone Determined Your Whole Future Relationship.

My Mother Used To Tell Me When I Went Somewhere, "please Leave Your Foolishness At Home." But How Could I Do That? It Was Stuck On Me.

Peter Conners Stunning Prose Poems Are Packed With Keen Sensitivity, Dreaminess, And Wit. I Love His Time Travels, The Vibrant Layering Of Image And Detail. Try Taking Walks As You Are Reading This Book- The Dazzle Of Landscapes, Inner And Outer, Feel Replenished And Rich. This Is Language And Vision I Want To Come Home To Again And Again.