Still by Elizabeth Cunningham
An excerpt from So Ecstasy Can Find You
I walk on a back road
under a still grey sky,
the same light all day,
no cars, no lights, horses standing
still in mud, even the birds
try to be quiet, their sounds the bird
equivalent of whispering.
Three geese fly silently
over a striated hill. My red-
booted footfall is the loudest sound,
my walk the most determined motion.
My life stands still
and wonders where I am going.
In her third collection of poems, novelist Elizabeth Cunningham leads us on an intimate journey into forest and mountain, garden and dream, along a hidden stream bed and beside a friend’s deathbed. She also explores poetic form, drawing inspiration from ghazal, haiku, tanka, and song lyric. Eye and ear are equally important to Cunningham; her images are rich, her rhythms, sure. By turns wry and tender, awed and amused, the collection displays the emotional range of a writer whose questions have led her on a quest, whether it is following blue trail markers along a cliff or confronting her own aging and death. These poems are grounded (literally and figuratively) in Cunningham’s ecstatic connection with the earth in all its strength, fragility and mystery.