Time to run out and get a copy of my wife's new book, Four Blue Eggs. It's a beautiful collection of insightful, crisp poems. Here's what the cover says:
"Four Blue Eggs is sense music, an exploration of beginnings and of endings. In this collection of poems, Amy Nawrocki intuits fireflies and sapphires, observes gardens rooted in glasses of water, and tests the bindings of old books. Solace abounds-in winter's white, in the hefty doors of an Oldsmobile, in half melted candles. Stick figures walk in this terrestrial moonscape, birds nest in improbable trees, daughters survive without mothers and fathers. Her poems propose that though "we earn the favor of being by breaking," the pieces are salvageable; bruises heal from the inside through the universe's infinite surrogacy. The collection contemplates how to tether the salty wounds of sadness, how to find our treeness, and how to say good bye."