Caches of rubble are the obstacles
so slowly, geologically formed,
I took them as landmarks,
orienting myself in accord.
But they shift under my feet at a tempo
I fail to notice.
In "The Lost Grip," poems are stepping stones mapping trauma to recovery, disarming convictions shaped by cultural sins of omission. At times with a painter’s eye or a dancer’s movement, Eva Zimet forms connection and reconnection. "The Lost Grip" offers respite and nurtures light on the way to healing.
Caches of rubble are the obstacles
so slowly, geologically formed,
I took them as landmarks,
orienting myself in accord.
But they shift under my feet at a tempo
I fail to notice.
In "The Lost Grip," poems are stepping stones mapping trauma to recovery, disarming convictions shaped by cultural sins of omission. At times with a painter’s eye or a dancer’s movement, Eva Zimet forms connection and reconnection. "The Lost Grip" offers respite and nurtures light on the way to healing.