by Dick Edelstein

Irish poet Geraldine Mitchell begins her new collection as she means to go on, choosing as an epigraph an untitled, haiku-like poem in an exalted tone:

a blackbird knaps
the flint of my heart,
sparks fly

Written in a non-classical style, the epigraph is a signpost indicating the celebratory mood prevailing in this collection, her fifth in 15 years. The mini-poem is the first of several graceful haiku-like forms sprinkled throughout the volume like pixie dust. Formally diverse, mostly without titles, standing alone on a page, they resemble marginalia. Like a Greek chorus, they make meta-commentaries on the text as well as statements and observations.

seabirds
face into the wind

waves explode
like outraged snow

trees are open
cages where birds
in safety
sing their limits

Seeking new challenges, Mitchell experiments with form without becoming wedded to a formula, so each collection is a revelation. The haiku-like poem below has a title, a more formal syntax, and a discursive tone, and it manifests an element of surprise, giving readers a chance to consider how much the feeling of haiku is associated with a particular syllabic arrangement, as opposed to line breaks or thematic content.

FOLLY

I have fallen in love
with a tree.
At my age.
Imagine.

This collection is permeated by the notion of age, of longevity and mortality, something inquieting and hard to ignore. Read more »