Safe as Lightning Book Review

Safe as Lightning: Poems by Scudder H. Parker
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Such a wonderful collection of poems that are hopeful, sad, pensive, gracious, and grateful--a world of emotions expressed in this world of nature and poetry! There are such lovely lines and turns of phrases throughout, too, such as "a bowl of wildness" (p. 95); "remember you are here by gift" (121); and:

"We found and ate wild onions, green flags,
red bulbs flecked with loam,
so spring would infect our breath" (p. 41).

The poems are accessible, and many feel like little stories of a life and place in rural Vermont. A complete book that will transport and transform you. Full disclosure: I am the editor of this book, however, I would not inflate my review as such. I truly enjoy the work here, and think you will too.

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I Take a Walk with My Daughter to the Library

and it’s quiet but for screams of circling seagulls overhead. Still, it’s quieter than usual. We see no people. Only the chipper birds, all the birds, circling and swooping the sky that’s now theirs.

I walk in this desolate town that used to bustle at Noon. We get to the library that used to be open. My daughter asks if she can play in the library today. When I tell her no she says, because of the virus?

A person walks by with a dog and I put my mask up over my mouth and nose. I walk away from them. My daughter thank god is already running around the library lawn and doesn’t notice the person and the white, fluffy dog. I don’t have to remind her to stay away.

Downtown Main Street: all the parking spaces are empty; all the storefronts closed.

My daughter picks up a stick and draws a picture of an oval in the dirt. I ask her, is it a heart? and she says, no it’s a bird with no wings, and I’m amazed she knows exactly how I feel.

Then she draws a shape duck table, she yells it at me three times. She is three years old.

Then she chants I want to go home, places three shriveled winter berries in my hand, wraps her soft hand around my thumb and leads me down the sidewalk while I trail the empty red Radio Flyer wagon behind.

My daughter playing on the library building.