“There are many Zen-like moments of pure being in these poems, and there is also grief and questioning. Yet Ruth Thompson stares down her hungry ghosts and tames them. ‘Let me grow a word for this,’ she says in ‘Humus,’ and grows many words, meditations, songs, hymns, memories, biographies, and tales. She revels in the molasses sun of a life well lived, and taken together, these poems accrue to a kind of wise triumph.”
