Wreckage and euphoria

On the dedication page of Barbara Crooker’s new poetry collection, we read that her book is “For Richard, da cuore.” The Italian phrase can mean “with all my heart,” or even “from heart to heart.” The Richard in question is her husband, who died in 2021 after 46 years of marriage. And so, from the very start of this volume we are alerted to the kind of journey these poems will take: to loss, decline, and death. What can counter these inevitabilities? The artistry of Crooker’s poetry suggests some answers.

Slow Wreckage is Crooker’s tenth book of poems. She has always been a sharp noticer, especially of the natural world and the visual arts. Reading her poetry feels like putting on a new pair of glasses: suddenly the beauty of the world appears with perfect clarity and detail.

Part of the pleasure in reading any new collection lies in discovering if the poet has arranged the poems to create a narrative, to tell a story. That is certainly the case here. The 68 poems in this collection are stepping stones that lead to something that transcends any individual poem. Reading Slow Wreckage from start to finish feels like traveling through time to something that eludes temporality.