<div>This collection, Morton’s tenth, is a bold book of poetry delving into risks. It’s the moving forward; the constant discovery of new things. Using a combination of quotes, mythological images, and exquisite metaphors from nature, Morton delivers poems that describe the absolute urgency of giving one’s heart over to life, the burning drive to have faith in the world, the insistence that everything, in its own way, is holy. This book is unfettered joy.<BR><br> <B>Tending Fires </B><BR> I wanted to write a sonnet last night,<BR> because that’s what lovers do, but the fire<BR> needed tending, and all I could think of<BR> were your shoulders, and that’s not romantic,<BR> so I put on another log, and thought<BR> about that hot summer day underneath<BR> that oak, when our shoulders brushed, and I blushed<BR> at the nearness of you, and how we made<BR> love that night . . . still . . . that’s not what I wanted<BR> to write . . . But it’s you; you, my love. You are<BR> my night and my morning, and the hot coals<BR> beneath these logs . . . hear them hiss and whisper<BR> like cicadas?cicadas of the trees,<BR> and the summer, and of all things that burn.</div>