The Memory of Gills

THE MEMORY OF GILLS has been a long time coming. Not as long of course as the eons it's been since we had gills. Lucky for us it is finally here, because it is a gem among all the others beckoning from the shelves for our attention. So here's my suggestion, snap it up, run home and dive in. Read it in the attic in the old rocker, out on the porch on the swing or by the sea with the waves nipping at your toes. With the zest of one who's moved around a bit we get views from the depths of love, eye to eye with clover, peaking from under the covers, and from places that only exist in the magic of poetry. You'll have to force yourself to put this book down, to savor it in smaller bits, rather then swallowing it whole and still feeling hungry. With sights and smells, sounds and sympathies you'll march along from poem to poem completely oblivious to the rest of the world. THE MEMORY OF GILLS is an excellent example of the poetry of persistence. With this book in hand we are brought to a place where we can benefit from the years of work, the diligent reworking, and the brushing away of rejection notices to find a home with a publisher that decided Catherine Carter's poems had evolved to the point that they could breathe on their own.