Publisher's Synopsis
"Lauri Robertson's poems are morsels to savor. She shares Proustian madeleines-hers, in a small crystal wine glass, just big enough for "a splash", that takes her back to her father. You walk with her through her garden of fleurs sauvages, run your fingers over the stone crevices of the French medieval village walls, eavesdrop on her conversations, with her mother, maybe with you, with all of us, lucky enough to listen. These poems, and especially those on memory, are nothing short of the most profound philosophical meditations on living, loving, losing, and growing old"--.
