Earth the beloved is ephemeral. ZWICKY sings its song. Musician, philosopher, she says: “You are/ the one I’ve always walked toward.” The one who now “turns from me.” The conclusion? Four adjectives: “strewn, tragic, mortal, gleaming.” The people: she’s a cold poet!
Howe’s poem “Prayer” sustains a contemplative reading—a “spiritual” reading. The speaker could be George Herbert. The web of concepts—distraction, sitting, falling things, flight, complaint—provide the mind’s spider with a platform for waiting to seize the self forgetful self.
Earth is alive in Zwicky’s lyrics, which readers tend to find depressing—poems and author. I grew up in the Central Valley— no ACs. We drove into the dark. Isolated, companioned by circumstances, alerted we adjusted. JZ’s line is awake to aspects we now value as eco-awareness.