Being Good Felt Like A Heavy Coat,

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.

A Poem Is A Cup Of Words Open To The Sky And Wind In A Bucket.

Maybe We Try Too Hard To Be Remembered, Waking To The Glowing Yellow Disc In Ignorance, Swearing That Today Will Be The Day, Today We Will Make Something Of Our Lives. What If We Are So Busy Searching For Worth That We Miss The Sapphire Sky And Cackling Blackbird. What Else Is Missing? Maybe Our Steps Are Too Straight And Our Paths Too Narrow And Not Overlapping. Maybe When They Overlap Someone In Another Country Lights A Candle, A Couple Resolves Their Argument, A Young Man Puts Down His Silver Gun And Walks Away.

What Did Exclusivity Ever Have To Offer But A Distorted, Unrealistic View Of The World? People Who Stuck Only To Their Own Kind Were Scared People.

We All Find Ourselves Involved In Projects Or Activities That Confound Us-when Or Why Did I Say I Would Do This? What Was I Thinking? I Needed A Poem For Myself That Said-pause Longer. Think Again.