Do Not Peel the Birches (Paperback)
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In her second collection of poems, Fleda Brown Jackson holds with a meditative rapture to the place she call home"home as family, the source of trouble and joy; home as the embellished stories of family; and home as a place called Central Lake. And when the poems move outward"to Stonehenge, Edinburgh, Kitty-Hawk, Roanoke, St. Pete Beach, and the Mississippi River"the past keeps resonating. At last, the voice that remembers becomes nothing but a riding, a hunger. If I were a swan, she imagines, The world would move / under me / and I would always be exactly / where I am.