These animated, plain-spoken poems attempt to describe the land, the weather, and all that is and has been around and alive in the author's Minnesota over the last four or five decades. Several of the reviewers compare Hennen to Robert Bly. Since I became aware of Bly at the time of Iron John, with all its fame and the attendant mockery, I haven't read Bly's poems. Maybe now is the time to try them. They are all spare, and cold, and deep, but though they are all lovely in their own way, I think that I like the new poems best:
"Skift snow frightens all the birds away except the chickadee
that has no room left in its little body for an ounce of fear. The only sound of skift snow is a whisper as it brushes across the crusty winter afternoon."
and
"Red maple leaves
Lie just so
In the tall faded grass.
Happy to do it."
Well worth the read, especially in winter by a warm fire.
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