In arid coastal areas of South America, locals hang rags outside until they're saturated with fog. They wring out this water, all year long, as a means of survival. They call it "harvesting fog." And that, writes LUCI SHAW, is a lot like writing poems. In her poems, Shaw observes and contemplates nature and humanity: "I'm merely a floater in the eye of God." "Behold the fleck of ant... If by observation, we become part of an insect's life, is he aware of us?" Shaw's poems invite us to awaken the spirit of loving and giving: "The tide that outward ebbs, turns then and inward flows, And what I offer you, you'll multiply to me." Shaw's 10th volume of poetry satisfies a thirsty imagination. Shaw turns the details of our lives, the droplets, into the music of possibility.
