Too much themselves to need the sun
as prototype, they're sopranos to our sight,
feeding off the slightest, most staggered
slivers of light. We wouldn't need
much more to believe yellow specks,
blown afield, dust with microscopic dust
the willet's wings, the dog's paw, the man's beard.
--from The Colours at McCormack's Beach
Brian Bartlett's poems, both pithy and expansive, bridge nature and human society, humour and elegy. Ranging from Buster Keaton films to a miniature Taj Mahal, from a celebration of sloths to an ironic look at the new millennium, from an urban garden to a ferry at sea, these poems tell stories and sing, question and praise.