One thing I love is combing through the little poetry section in Mandolin Books and finding, well, this: a book, published in the 80’s, the spine a bit yellowed, faded, but everything else plainly intact, its “new” price, not much less than the original price.
The book, published by Longspoon Press (1980-1986), is by Anne Campbell. It’s called “No Memory of a Move.” The poems—as good poetry does—move easily across the years; endure, like the prairies I suppose.
On the back, Robert Kroetsch says that Anne Campbell’s poetry, “presses at the edges of self itself.” And Eli Mandel says the book,
“…moves confidently and buoyantly…this is poetry of luminous intelligence, playful energy and genuine insight.”
There are many gems inside, each exquisitely set within the heart and soul of an arresting scene.
Or like this one:
I like carrying poetry around in my case, especially discovered poetry. I’ll be carting this around for a while.
As a postscript…last week, Audreys called to tell me a book I had ordered had come in. And it was a bit like Christmas for that whole day. I don’t see how this could happen in a Kindle/Kobo world. Yes, I know about our times, I pay enough homage…still, please, Mandolin Books, Audreys Books, and others, hang in there.
Wonderful to carry that beauty of earth encrusted poetry in your case.
You say it so well! Thank you Ray.