The willow tree that forms the heart of Ribot's collection is constantly evolving, "roughed up by high winds," putting forth "a profusion of tightly knit buds" and then new leaves "like pigtails sporting a tie." The poet renders what she sees faithfully, precisely, in musical lines that capture both the willow's beauty and its vulnerability as it holds light and shadow, the present and the past, blue jays and cardinals. Stanza by stanza, the willow becomes an apt figure for the natural world as well as for our own passing lives.-Jennifer Barber Harriet Ribot paints with words, creating a portrait of a willow with March boughs "clean and spare/as a whippet/straining/at the starting gate." With sparse lines she creates mystery, elegy, and focused attention. Step in among the leaves and imagine what tales she has braided into a crown, with grace.-Tina Kelley