What I thought I had left I kept finding again
I went through a serious period of reading W.S. Merwin’s poetry a few years ago. I started with his first collection, which came out in the 1950s, and basically read everything up until the mid-1990s, which is where I stopped. I’m swinging back into it now, picking up exactly where I left off with this slim volume of poetry that is mostly dedicated to rural France. The poems are about the natural landscapes, the old houses, the wildlife and the country-dwelling people of France and the book is solid. Merwin’s just always been really good at atmosphere and this book is no exception. The poems here are lyrical, not as stripped down and minimalist as The Lice, but not as flowery as a lot of his other books. It’s solidly enjoyable. 3 stars.
tl;dr – Merwin’s poetry is as evocative and atmospheric as usual, dedicated here to the landscapes, people and wildlife of rural France. 3 stars.