we held our breath, the birds and I by S. Hazen Guthrie

In times as fraught and fearful as these, taking a breath seems both the hardest and most needed thing–in S. Hazen Guthrie‘s new book, we held our breath, the birds and I, Guthrie gives the reader permission and room to breathe. In poems that are often brief, always observant, and willing to take a closer look at nature, God, and society, Guthrie creates a haven for deep thought, mercy, and the sip of fresh air we all require to face this world.

–Ashley M. Jones, AL Poet Laureate

In as much as S. Hazen Guthrie‘s new collection, We Held our Breath, the Birds and I, exudes expectancy—the worry over what’s to come and the wonder of it too—it also, on almost every page, applauds the spirituality of our daily lives: of the “diamonds, water on fire” freed by the flip of a cardinal tail in a birdbath, the “little rolling gardeners” that are earthworms, the “mid-air rocking chair” of a stamen on which a butterfly sits, a rock that turns up in the wash that could be anything. Of course, the rock in part is a reminder of the moment in which the poet lives, a moment in which too much will be decided. A stare-down between birds becomes aggression, “as quick as a vote,” and the question of equality hangs—rightly—over everything at this time in 2020. It’s a moment of breathlessness, of holding one’s breath, and while at the end of these poems, the poet and her birds “are still singing,” we are back at another moment of breath-holding. With see-ers like Hazen Guthrie in the mix, we can only hope that these songs will continue.

–Linda Frost, Ph.D.