The nuanced mysteries of light, darkness, presence, and memory are central themes in W.S. Merwinβs new book of poems. βI have only what I remember,β Merwin admits, and his memories are focused and profoundβthe distinct qualities of autumn light, a conversation with a boyhood teacher, well-cultivated loves, and βour long evenings and astonishment.β In βPhotographer,β Merwin presents the scene where armloads of antique glass negatives are saved from a dumpcart by βsomeone who understood.β In βEmpty Lot,β Merwin evokes a child lying in bed at night, listening to the muffled dynamite blasts of coal mining near his home, and we canβt help but ask: How shall we mine our lives?
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