The multiaward-winning Oliver (Dog Songs) gives readers another opportunity to slow down and connect, to see what she sees, and perhaps to find consolation there. In this slim volume, Oliver shares the page with Rumi, Stebbins, Lucretius and even Shiva. Oliver asks, "What Can I Do" in the face of technology. She answers "not much" but adds, "I can strike a match and make fire." Indeed she does! In a voice so distinctly hers, Oliver reflects on aging and the nature of art, poetry, and love the conundrum of culture. In "Franz Marc's Blue Horses," she suggests, "Maybe our world will grow kinder ./ Maybe the desire to make something beautiful/ is the piece of God that is inside each of us." As with those blue horses, which might have their secrets, it's enough that Oliver's poems are speaking and might have secrets, too, but it's up to us to listen. Perhaps the popularity of Oliver's poems lies in their pastoral quiet, the exactness of her observations, and the comfort of the poet's use of simple language. As she reminds readers, "I don't care how many angels can/ dance on the head of a pin. It's/ enough to know they exist, and that they dance." VERDICT Highly recommended for all poetry collections. Karla Huston, Appleton, WI (c) Copyright 2014. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award-winner Oliver (Dog Songs) remains among the bestselling poets in America, and this slim collection will sate her many fans: once again her clear, calm lines find pellucid guidance, wonder and cheer, and useful wisdom in forests and seashores. Though Oliver has long resided in Provincetown, Mass., and described New England natures, she nods this time to points farther south: "in a warm place, surrounded by/ mangroves," those tropical trees tell her "We are what we are, you/ are what you are, love us if you can." Readers who only know Oliver for her most popular work might be surprised, even delighted, at the open eroticism of other new poems; the same readers might seek out the titular painting by Franz Marc, where "the desire to make something beautiful/ is the piece of God that is inside each of us." Oliver's sentences, divided between quiet awe and spiritual instruction, have become less detailed over time: there's less "nature writing" here, and more mysticism, than in some earlier volumes. "There is a fire in the lashes of my eyes," she declares (quoting the German mystic Jacob Bohme); "It doesn't matter where I am, it could be a small room." It matters a great deal to her admirers that she is, once again, there for them. (Oct.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.