Green ash, red maple, black gum

the long version

Michael Waters writes vivid, sensual poems that fuse our longings in this world with the human urge to glimpse whatever lies beyond. Waters' muse is Walt Whitman and, like much of Whitman's work, his poems challenge us to abide one another and embrace humanity's imperfections. Viewing curiosities in a medical museum, Waters asks: "How then can I forget/ these jars stuffed with the invisible/ masses who touch us in our dreams, who steep/ our yearnings in their milky waters?" These generous poems, crafted syllable by syllable, speak to love and loss, our foibles and shortcomings, and the possibility of aesthetic and spiritual transcendence.