Sally Thomas has been a blog friend for some time. I always enjoy our conversations whether literary or homeschool-y. I’d maybe have bought her book even if I didn’t already admire her poetry. But Brief Light is the kind of book I’d have bought even if I hadn’t recognized the author’s name on the cover. It’s the kind of book I haunt the poetry section of bookstores hoping to find. That when I had flipped it open and read a few pages, I’d have snapped shut and tucked under my arm like a treasure and hurried to the front to pay for as if afraid that someone else might snatch it out of my hands before I could secure it as my very own. And then I’d have found a cozy nook to curl up in to luxuriate in the privilege of the words.
However, I’m glad I didn’t find this book at Barnes and Noble and chance to open it up by chance to the pair of poems tucked away in the middle of the book, Stillbirth and Widowhood. I’m glad I didn’t read them sitting on the carpet between the rows of shelves but was instead safely hidden in my own bathroom. Because that way I didn’t have to try to stem the flow of tears that ran down my face and then ran again when I’d collected myself to move from the first to the second.
There are so many beautiful poems in the book, I’d love to be able to comment on them all; but I’ve been sitting on this blog entry for a full month, hoping for time to become available and for inspiration to strike. I think I just need to post it now. Even if I had all the time in the world and wasn’t tired and pregnant, though, I don’t think I can do justice to this collection. Just buy it and read it. It’s good. Beautiful. Actually, just go read Emily’s review about reading Brief Light in Advent. So much better than anything I could say and much more thorough.