Barely Still, Barely Stirring by James Green

James Green offers the reader these poetic, wavering dreams, these prayers to earth and sky interwoven with shorelines, wild winds, rivulets on red soil, crane-pierced skies, enshrouding fog, falling and constant stars—enabling us to float upon his words to view “whatever heaven hides behind the moon.” These lines are ethereal and enlightening, spiritual and grounded, as in, “Some driftwood tangled on the bank still clings / to seasons left from dreams afraid to wake.”

–Jenny Kalahar, author of One Mile North of Normal and Other Poems and other works, a Pushcart Prize nominee, and President of Youth Poetry Society of Indiana