Nine Horses

December 1, 2002
Poet laureate Collins is a connoisseur of muted moments and a coiner of whimsical yet philosophical revelations. In the opening poem of his first all-new collection since "Picnic, Lightning "(1998), the insomniac poet rises and wanders outside where he is "simply conscious, / an animal in pajamas." Elsewhere he gazes "with affection" out a train window, or continues his "lifelong study / of the ceiling and its river-like crack." Collins loves to write about the stillness and meditative richness that is his home, but there are also many traveling poems here, wistful, blissful, and funny. Charm has always been essential to his work, and it now blossoms into sweet benevolence as readers board Collins' buoyant poems as though each were a small boat, carrying them gently into the dazzle of sun or the caress of soft rain. Calm water is, in fact, the book's ruling element as Collins watches a river from a bridge, or offers cascading gratitude for a genuine Turkish bath in clear, reflective, and serenely flowing praise songs. (Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2002, American Library Association.)