Entangle yourself in forty years of wandering as poet S.E. Page
plunges deep within the root and rot intrinsic to existence while
searching for worth.
“Mother ash undone universe
Breathe into me—
(Just one more time)
But how does one plead with a ghost?
How dare I ask for some
MORE.”
Breathe into me—
(Just one more time)
But how does one plead with a ghost?
How dare I ask for some
MORE.”
***
With skillfully crafted insightful poems and color photography, S.E. Page’s Tangible Creatures is a clear-sighted meditation of the earthly and celestial, of joy and grief. Page’s observant eye and perceptive mind turn the quotidian into wonderous: “snow is on fire with moonlight,” “damselflies beat satin-black/the day,” and a mother’s ashes are rescued from “a red/ plastic pot from Marshall’s” and divided using “an 1877 silver spoon.” Tangible Creatures is a big-hearted invitation to “count petals/ together like stars/ and make such gems/of our sorrows.”
—Luisa Caycedo-Kimura, Author of All Were Limones
