Caribou

Caribou

Charles Wright


Charles Wright's truth—the fact of nature, of man's longing for the divine, of aging—is on the center of the popular poet's newest assortment, Caribou. this is often an elegy to temporary good looks, a tune for the "stepchild hour, / belonging to neither the sunshine nor darkish, / The hour of disappearing things," and an expression of Wright's stressed questing for a fact past the single earlier than our eyes ("We are all going right into a global of darkish . . . It's ok. That's the place the secrets and techniques are, / the massive ones, those too tall to tell"). Caribou's power is in its quiet, wry profundity.

"It's strong to be here," Wright tells us. "It's stable to be the place the world's quiescent, and reminiscent." And to be here—in the pages of this stirring collection—is greater than strong; Caribou is one other striking reward from the poet round whose impact "the entire international turns out to orbit in one of those meditative, sluggish circle" (Poetry).

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