Local poet writes about mourning the death of her partner of four decades, following a slow decline and long illness. I feel like writing about grief is a whole sub genre of poetry, and can fall into trite or overdone, which would be a terrible thing to say about someone processing an actual loss, but fortunately, I don't have to say it about this book!

Both the individual poems and the structure of the book as a whole worked perfectly. There's something of a progression from blank incomprehension to starting to pick up the pieces, but not in a terribly linear way. At the centre of the book, are lists of ways to get over loss, "Seven Ways to Keep on Going" then "Six Ways" and so down to down, and you realise that the fragments that showed up between poems through the book are items from those lists, scraps she's gathering together and trying to put into some kind of order. Several poems are biting comments on other people offering received wisdom on how to handle loss, not aimed at the givers themselves, but at the idea that there's any map besides the one you make yourself. She imagines a goat coming through the house and eating all the funeral flowers, she imagines hauntings, wishing for them more than dreading them. Crozier is from Saskatchewan, and a number of her poems reminded me of Anne Szumigalski's writing about loneliness and isolation. The last poem is a single list: "One Way to Keep on Going," and no clear resolution.

(I will add that it was a little odd to think about this in technical terms, as I know the poet in passing, and mostly feel really bad that her partner died! I hope she's doing okay.) I wish I had the book to quote it, but back to the library it went. I might end up buying it.