Earthborn

In this quietly moving outing, Pulitzer Prize winner Dennis (Night School) places human feelings under a microscope to reveal their significance. A neighbor stands in her driveway and remarks, “We really need this rain,” which causes the speaker to contemplate “the green life we’ve gathered about us:/ The pin oaks and silver maples, the holly/ And lilac and dogwood, whose ancestors/ Did what they could to make a home here.” In “Stoplight,” Dennis evokes the grief one might feel about losing a spouse after decades of marriage through the simple image of a man sitting at a traffic light, in no particular hurry to return home “To a house that’s silent.” There are instances of wry humor as in “New Light Tabernacle,” which opens with the poet admitting he would drive an extra 10 minutes to shop at a solar-powered grocery store, “Though I admit that an extra thirty minutes/ Might prove a problem. I have my own life to live/ After all.” What begins with a comic moment turns into a profound discussion of spirituality and stewardship and humanity’s obligations to itself, the Earth, and God. Dennis grants reverence and crystalline attention to each moment; it is a joy to see the world through his perceptive eyes. (Mar.)