These poems are small miracles of naming that summon a world into existence. The poet doesn't merely name things we know, she re-creates them. By speaking to a phone, she invents dialogue. By calling the birds as they fly south again, she raises a scene from her past. The past, in fact, haunts these pages and yet the book, feels resolutely triumphant. It teaches us how to celebrate in the midst of loss. Even knowing the sun will erase it, we can move forward in the company of this amazing poet, writing our own faint psalm[s] of unknowing. Jeanne Murray Walker